You Are The Only One
by Nutsaboutremus
Summary: COMPLETED! What happens when your marriage does not turn out the way you envisioned? Would you stay, knowing that life would be a bit worse? Or would you cut and leave? Ginny and Draco struggle to find out the answers before it is too late. R n R!
1. Default Chapter

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**You Are The Only One**

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**Summary** – DG, Post Hogwarts, a tad AU-ish. What happens when your marriage does not turn out the way you envisioned? Would you stay, knowing that life would be a bit worse? Or would you cut and leave? Most importantly does true love last a lifetime? Ginny and Draco struggle to find out the answers before it is too late.

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**DISCLAIMER – _Anything you recognise is not mine._**

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**Part I**

_They are so many keys to a happy marriage, you probably need a key ring_ - Anonymous

* * *

"Why did you even want to divorce him in the first place?"

Ginny stared at her best female friend and sister-in-law, Hermione Weasley, who was sitting across from her at one of the many sidewalk cafés that had popped up in Daigon Alley after The Second War, attacking her seafood croissant.

"This stuff is good." She mumbled through a mouthful.

Ginny bit back a grin. Four years of marriage to Ron and already Hermione was cussing like him and eating like him without even knowing it.

"What? Why are you smirking like your husband for?"

"Ex-husband." Ginny corrected her wearily. "You would think with the divorce finally in the works after a year over of separation, you would stop calling him my husband."

"Which brings me back to my question. We all knew separation period was for you both to revitalise and revive your relationship. So what happened? Why are you gunning for a divorce?" Hermione had set down her cutlery and was focusing all her attention on Ginny who shook her head, exhausted with having to deal with family and friends who could not seem to comprehend her predicament.

"Remind me that you're one of the people who flat out refused to attend my wedding six years ago."

Hermione drew in a deep breath and blew it out in fustration. "Hey, that's not my fault. Neither Ron nor I knew he was on our side and when I did found out, pronto, I was your maid of honour. Don't try and change the topic, Ginny." She pointed her fork discriminatingly at Ginny.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

Ginny's spoon that she had been using to eat her delicious cheesecake fell with a clatter onto the table as she looked up into the face of the man she fell in love with at the age of sixteen – Draco Malfoy.

His robes were a fine rich black billowing about him. His gloves were silky suede, his blonde hair reaching the nape of his neck, covering his ears, an attractive rumpled mess. He looked as handsome and wealthy as ever. As would the man behind the Malfoy business empire, which he had rebuilt, with his own two hands after Hogwarts.

It was amazing how you could feel nothing for someone you shared a life with and had a child with when you had been hurt so badly by him, Ginny realised.

"Where's Rafael?" Ginny had checked her schedule before meeting Hermione for tea and knew that Draco was supposed to pick up their son from grade school and drop him off with her.

"Getting ice cream." Draco told her, brushing his wheat blonde hair out of his grey eyes in a gesture that made Ginny hesitate just for a moment – was that her heart pounding in her chest?

She turned around and her face lit up as she smiled at the sight of her son standing by the counter, picking the flavour of his ice cream. He had a cherubic face, red hair that formed a mop on his head and grey eyes that reminded Ginny of Draco every time she looked into them. There was a time when she had just separated from Draco that looking to her son's eyes made her want to bawl her heart out.

Ginny had the most beautiful smile in the world, Draco had to give her that. Her smile could knock a dove out of a tree. It could turn a man's head so completely he might spill his drink and not even notice that a pool was spreading across the table and onto the floor. That was what had hooked him in the first place – her smile had been the light at the very end of his dark tunnel.

Making her smile for him was all that he had wanted for sometime. And he did whatever he could to win her over, to make her love him; be it discarding all the values which had been indoctrinated him since he was a child, be it joining the light side, be it constant arguments with his mother that he knew what he was doing, be it refraining from calling Granger 'mudblood'.

Though treating Potter and Ginny's brother in a civilised manner was asking a bit too much but he attempted to ignore them, at least in front of Ginny. Soon enough these little things he forced himself to stop doing became life time habits and before knew it, he had become a different person – a man Ginevra Weasley had fallen in love with.

Then later on when he finally had her, all he wanted was for her to have his babies and be with him forever. During the War, he had often proposed getting married as soon as possible instead of waiting till the War was over. He wanted her safe in the Malfoy Manor, for him to come home to every night and make love to, not on the battlefield helping to heal the wounded.

As medieval as it sounded he could not help it – Ginny Weasley brought out the cave man in him. Maybe that explained why he had flung the entire bedside table, at her from across their bedroom, missing her face by a few inches. But she had made him so angry telling him that he was a lousy father to Rafael, never spent time with the family and was always at work. That had absolutely been below the belt and she _knew_ that.

She had said enough was enough. If he was not a family man, that was not her problem. With that, she had threatened to leave him and take their son with her. That was when he snapped. That was when he threw the table at her and instantly regretted it. The look on her face he would never forget – fear, regret, disappointment, distress and utterly devastated.

He had wanted to weep himself. Then she was gone and he did not blame her. He had never been violent towards his wife, never raised a finger on his son. Yelled at Ginny, yes. The past year had been screaming matches in their bedroom – shrill words that he thought he could never take back- with a heavy silencing charm on the door but he had never slapped her, never attempted to even hit her.

Now as he watched her rise from her seat with fluid grace borne from the years of being a Malfoy, rushing through the café and embracing their son in a bone crushing hug in a purely Weasley style, he could not help but wonder whether he knew what he wanted anymore.

He glanced at Hermione who had a knowing smile on her face as she watched him watch Ginny. She nodded, smiling that irritatingly knowing smile which grated on his nerves. These Gryffindors thought they knew _everything_.

"Ah, you changed your perfume." Draco smiled down at Ginny. She ignored his comment as she came to stand beside him, her one arm around Rafael's waist as she smothered him with kisses.

"Mummee. Stop." The five year old whined, though he was inordinately pleased to be hugged.

Rafael was a lover, a hugger, one of those children who would for no stated reason come to her, silent and wistful, seeking a hug as other children might ask for candy. Ginny would peck him on the forehead or cheek, a reassurance of love, before pulling him into a tight, warm embrace.

'I thought you love hugs and kisses. Didn't you come to my study last night, wanting a hug." Ginny tickled her son as she leaned forward to grab her black handbag.

Draco averted his gaze. She was no longer really his wife. He had to relinquish the right to gaze at her breasts when she bend down in those blouses she often wore to work with those muggle black skirts that were becoming all the rage now in the wizarding world. They fit her rear end rather snugly too, he realised, cursing himself immediately. _Ex- Wife._ He reminded himself a thousand times a day.

"But that was last night, at home, when no one was around." Rafael explained to his mother.

"Well, I've gotta go, 'Mione. Got to pick up some new robes for little Rafael here and drop by The Burrow before I get home." She was apologetic.

"I'm not little, anymore, Mum! I'm five." Rafael protested, heatedly.

"Yes you are, darling, sorry I forgot." Ginny ruffled his hair.

"It's not a problem." Hermione told her, hugging her and leaning down to hug her only godson. "You didn't say hi to me."

He shrugged. 'Sorry, I didn't see you. Mummy was hugging me." He smiled impishly. Hermione's heart melted and she forgave him instantly – not that she could hold a grudge against such an adorable child.

"Say bye to daddy." Ginny told him. He hugged his father who whispered something in his ear that made him laugh and nod.

"Give daddy a good bye kiss." Ginny reminded him.

After he did so, Draco looked at his wife, a smirk painted across his lips, "Do I get a good bye kiss from you too?"

She rolled her eyes, ignored him and was off – down the street, bag in one hand, Rafael holding onto the other.

Draco sank down into the seat Ginny had vacated. Hermione stared at him across the table, an expectant look on her face.

"What?" Draco snapped, at the end of his tether.

"You don't have to be so insolent, y'know Malfoy. It's obvious you want Ginny back in your life."

Draco was not going to deny it. 'But I can't. That's the bitch of it."

"It always is," She commented, wisely. "We always want what we cannot have."

* * *

"You need a break." Molly told her youngest daughter observing the dark circles around her pretty brown eyes and the flushed look on her face. She sat down in front of her, pushing a plate of cookies in front of her with a mug of warm milk.

Ginny shook her head, her head throbbing with a migraine. Seeing Draco that evening had not done her any good. It always brought back this great overwhelming flood of disappointment, regret and even doubts about leaving him.

Ginny averted her gaze on Rafael who was chasing after the garden gnomes, squealing in delight. Lanterns hung up in the trees in the garden of The Burrow lend a glow to the scene, forming a halo around her son's head as he looked at her, smiling. She smiled back at him, her heart filling up with something warm.

His was a difficult birth, life threatening for both mother and child. Every attempt to turn the baby had failed and soon enough the healers begun to dread the outcome. Ginny, a usually self reliant, practical woman found herself screaming for her mother much to her husband's fright.

Draco thought he was going to lose his wife, the only woman who loved him for all his idiosyncrasies. He wanted to weep but instead he snapped angrily at one of the healers. He had always been the meanest when he was most afraid of losing something or somebody.

Curbing his panic, he went to fetch Molly. He was surprised she had not heard her daughter herself. Ginny's cries were piercing and desperate enough to reach even the hard hearted.

At last the child arrived, after seventeen hours of brutal labour, born feet first – the sign of a true healer. The healer in charge snapped a shoulder to ease the birth, for Ginny's pulse was rapidly dropping. Rafael cried the moment he came out, staring at everyone around him with his big wide lake grey eyes. The baby was easily soothed, just a pat or two but it was too late.

His first and only cry had grown right through Ginny, a hook piercing through blood and bones. She did not care about the blood on the floor or the trembling in her legs, not even about Draco or her mother, both standing beside her in muted anxiety and bliss. Her eyes were filled with dizzying circles of light, little pinpricks that glimmered her inside her eyelids. It was not starlight, but something else entirely.

Something she could not comprehend till the healer handed her the child, the damaged left shoulder taped up with white adhesive as though it were a broken wing. Ginny gazed into the child's calm face, into his grey eyes that stared back up at her silently.

In that instant, she experienced complete devotion. She was drawn to him with an intensity she could not feign. The son she had dreamt of. Then and there, on the fifth floor of St. Mungo's, she understood what it meant to be blinded by love and knew that she would spend the rest of her life trying to win this child.

As she passed the baby to Draco to hold in his arm, she knew he was just as enthralled. The look of pure devotion on his face as their baby grabbed into his father's index finger, his tiny fingers wrapped around that sole slender finger, made Ginny feel something so insurmountable she could barely describe it.

From then on, they loved him, this child their radiance and wonder of their lives, their little prince. As baby with his sweet expression and chubby features, he was quite a charmer. He rarely kicked off his blankets in red faced, screaming rage. He always had seemed well mannered, right from the beginning. When he smiled, his smile lit up the entire nursery. Draco insisted it was Ginny's smile, through and through. Ginny knew otherwise, her smile had never melted a stranger's heart the way Rafael's did.

Recently though, he had been increasingly stubborn and spent most of then time at home holed up in a book or lying on the front hallway carpet, kicking his legs as if cycling in the air. Getting him ready for school or making him clear his toys or even having breakfast was a tough chore for Ginny but when he simply smiled at her, she wanted nothing more than to please this angel. She hoped it was not the effect of Draco and her going splitsville.

"In order to be a good mother for Rafael, you can't afford to be stressed." Molly told Ginny, following her daughter's gaze as she tracked the progress of Rafael chasing a particularly grouchy garden gnome.

"I'm fine, Mum. Really." Ginny bit half-heartedly on a cookie. It felt like sawdust in her mouth. She usually loved her mother's cookies. That was what love gone wrong did to you – it left a permanently bitter taste in your mouth.

"No you're not. You're working full time at the publishing company and you're trying to raise a five-year-old child all by yourself. On top of all that, you have the divorce going on."

"Mum, Draco's helping-"

"I didn't he say he was not but he's only seeing his son on weekends and picking him up after school when you can't make it. It's not the same as what you're doing. You _need_ a break, sweetheart."

"I can handle it."

"Maybe you can now but after a while.."

Ginny sighed, sipping the warm milk that refreshed her a bit. She could not ask more from her mother. Among her family, her mother was the only one who had been supportive of her divorce for the right reasons. She trusted her daughter enough to stand by her.

Arthur had never completely warmed up to the idea of having a Malfoy as a son-in-law but his love for Ginny brought him around. The separation unsettled him more than expected. He was just getting around to getting to know the enigmatic man his daughter was deeply in love with and was taken aback to find out things were not working out.

Marriage was all about hard work – that was what he had told Ginny – you stuck through with it and you worked at it and you did this because you loved each other. Unfortunately, Ginny had had enough. So her father accepted her decision and continued to love her. Her brothers though were mostly non-committal, sympathetic when it counted, save for Ron who detested Draco till today.

"So what do you want me to do, Mum?"

"Go out with Luna, have a girls' night out. It's Friday night. Let Rafael spend the night at The Burrow. Your father and I would love to have the little man for company." Molly suggested.

Ginny suddenly felt as if she was being ambushed by a plan her mother seemed to have hatched hours ago.

"But Luna's probably busy. I mean, she's most likely out with Harry-"

"Harry's out of town on an Auror assignment. Luna's bored out of her wits at home." Ginny looked at her mother questioningly. This was beginning to sound more and more like a well-laid plan.

'Does Luna know about this?" Ginny asked, shrewdly.

Her mother went an uncustomary red in the face. "She sort of discussed it with me this morning when she came over for breakfast."

"I don't believe this – my good friend and my own mother scheming against me!" Ginny threw her hands up in the air, disbelieving.

"Luna's waiting over at her place. You can floo over to her place." Her mother told her, finalising the discussion.

* * *

"Lu! This is ridiculous." Ginny gestured at her outfit that made her feel very overexposed – a flimsy halter top and a black skirt that ended just above her knees

"You look great, Ginny." Luna told her, beaming.

She was very proud of all they had accomplished in such a short span of time. From her place they had apparated to the more upmarket district of Diagon Alley that Ginny had become familiar during her wealthy years as Draco's wife. Once there, they had gone shopping for a downright gorgeous outfit for Ginny, then a manicure and a pedicure, topping it all off with a visit to the hair salon for blowing and drying.

Now they were finally ready to hit Club Street nearby for some good old fun and clubbing. Ginny had not done this in years, not since Rafael was born. Before they had Rafael, and after the war, she and Draco used to go out for dinners, social functions and now and then clubbing.

His favourite club had been the one right at the end, with its fine drinks, good music and interesting architecture. He used to love to see her all dressed up in some barely there outfit and used to spend half his time trying to find some dark corner to snog her brains out. Just _remembering_ made her tremble with the sudden spurt of unexpected desire. The hurt was worse though, effectively quelling any sort of desire.

"You okay?" Lu asked her as they walked into one of the clubs. She nodded, squeezing her friend's arm reassuringly.

A good half hour later, Ginny felt even worse. She was on her fifth glass of some alcoholic concoction called Dragon's Fire that seemed to go right to her head. So far all the men who had asked to dance or attempted to pick her up had attempted to look down her blouse. She had to resist the urge to slap them across the face and tell them that she was a Malfoy wife, so **beware**.

"I'm going out for some fresh air." She told Luna.

Before her friend could protest, Ginny was halfway towards the exit. She stumbled out into the night, taking a deep breath. She missed Rafie. Ever since Draco had left, her son had taken to crawling into bed with her, her arms around him as he slept, a source of great security for the both of them. She hoped he was all right.

Ginny gazed up at the night sky, her arms crossed across her chest. A ring had appeared around the moon. High above in the sky, the ring had already begun to twist around itself, an illuminated snake of possibility, double looped and pulled tight by gravity.

When it was a double ring like that, all tangled and snarled, like an agitated rainbow or a love affair gone wrong, anything could happen. At times such as this, it was wisest to sit at home, in bed. Trouble was just like love after all; it comes unannounced and takes over before you had a chance to reconsider or even think.

"_Ginevra_." His voice knocked Ginny a loop. She felt as if she was walking into something she could not control by just looking up at him. The man who made her feel a thousand emotions during those heated days in Hogwarts - one of them superfluous desire – Draco Malfoy was walking towards her. He stopped, barely a feet away from her.

His eyes were as stormy gray as ever but there were deep lines etched in his face that he was too young to have. Ginny had not noticed that till now. He looked more masculine that she could ever remember, awakening a strange, long forgotten feeling in the pit of her abdomen, like a curled up cat stretching. She bit her lip, shaking her head slightly as if to clear it of all these unexpected emotions caused most likely by the drinks she had consumed.

"What are you doing here?' Draco asked, a jealous possessive anger sweeping over him at the thought of Ginny in a club, close to midnight.

"I should ask you the same thing." She told him, her delicate chin tilted upwards in defiance.

She looked beautiful tonight. Draco had a lump in his throat just looking at her. He was already thinking about things they could do if the two of them were alone in a room.

She looked exactly like the girl he had fallen in love with that starry Christmas night during his last year at Hogwarts, as he stepped into Three Broomsticks and her laughter had fallen on his ears, like fairy bells tinkling in the cold night. Her laughter had wrapped around him like a warm blanket. Then he had looked for the source of the laughter, and her smile had hit him like a pile of bricks. She had looked so young, innocent, pretty and carefree he had wanted to hold her, have her wrap his arms around him.

Now though, as pretty, young and carefree she looked; there was an alluring air of sexy femininity around her. Maybe it was the outfit. She never dressed like that nowadays, opting for the classy and elegant style as a Malfoy wife rather than the sexy and saucy look.

Maybe it was the fact that those soft curves on her body were given by motherhood and made her even more attractive. Maybe it was the fact that he knew her from head to toe literally and could do things to her that made her toes curl at the mere thought of it.

Ginny took two steps back at the look on his face. The way Draco was looking down at her was so transparent she felt her as if she was flying and drowning at the same time, it left her in a heat of confusion. She could not believe the way he was looking at her, even after all this time.

"You never answer my questions." He smirked at her.

"Wipe that smirk off your face." She demanded, suddenly annoyed. The same fiery, vivacious girl he had fallen in love with. He attempted to stop smirking but wound up smiling. She softened at the smile that lit up his classic chiselled face.

"Draco." She said, breathily, her voice unnaturally husky.

It was music; it was a sound that was absurdly beautiful in her mouth. He moved closer towards her, pulled by gravity, pulled by forces he could not begin to control. Ginny too moved towards him, so that the nothing separated them.

He was whispering that he had wanted this forever. When he touched her, his hands were so hot on her skin she could not believe it. She certainly could not think. All she knew was that _this_ felt just so **_right_**.

This was what it must be like to be drunk, Ginny found herself thinking, as Draco pressed against her. His hands were on her skin, they were under her blouse, and she did not think of stopping him. She wanted the heat that he was making her feel. She, who could not function without directions and a map, wanted to get lost right now.

His hair brushed against her forehead as he leaned forward, his breath mingling with hers before he touched his lips against hers. She gasped in pleasure, as his tongue entered her mouth, mating with her own.

The familiar taste of his mouth filled hers. Her fingers were in his hair, entangled with his silky pale blonde locks while he cupped her heart shaped face that always fit his big handsome hands perfectly. She could feel herself giving in to his kisses, scorching on her lips, and sending electric jolts right down to the core of her very being.

Her fingers tightening her hold on his shoulder and her body softening against his. His hands slid down her sides and pressed her against him. He felt her body tremble beneath the gentle onslaught, and he slowly released her, feeling his insides knot at leaving the warmth of her mouth.

He broke away from her, staring down at her and feeling slightly breathless. Her eyes fluttered open to stare up at him, and he felt that if this was the last moment in his life, it would be his happiest. He did not move away, his arms still around her. Ginny could feel the bunching of his taut thighs against her own.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Ginny's voice was barely above a whisper.

She had no thought of what she was saying or doing. All she knew was that if Draco removed his arms, which were encircled around her hips, her knees would give away and she would be on the ground. She had no idea how she could have survived this long without kissing him. Well, you only know what you need when you get it.

He leaned down, his eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light of the sidewalk. "Like this?" He murmured, his eyes locked with hers, as if forcing her to look right into their depths, to see him as the man he was, the man he tried to be. She nodded, licking her lips in anticipation. Draco needed no further invitation.

"If only you knew how you looked to me." He murmured before kissing her. _That _efficiently killed Ginny's mood. Placing her hands, palm flat on his chest, she broke the kiss by pushing him away from her.

'What?" Draco asked, baffled.

Ginny's face was flushed with anger. She felt such an indignant rage she could have slapped Draco but she held herself back.

"_So _it's because of _this_ **slutty** outfit that you can't get your hands off me, is that it?" She questioned. The tips of her auburn red hair were grazing her shoulders, the whites of her eyes flashing in anger. Her hands were on her hips. Ginny cut a formidable and enticing figure when she was angry.

Draco shook his head, wondering why he always seemed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

"It's not that, Gin. You look gorgeous tonight but you always do, to me at least. Because I love you. That's why I kissed you." He lowered his voice, leaned down in an attempt to meet her cold, harsh stare, "That's why I want you."

"Don't butter me up, Draco. You've _always_ been good at doing that." She spat at him, angry and hurt more than with Draco but at herself, at the way her body had betrayed her, the way she had reacted towards his touch, his embrace and his kisses.

"But it's the truth." She wanted to believe him then, wanted to trust that look of love and tenderness in his eyes. Besides, she knew he had loved her and maybe, just maybe he still did. But the question was if his love for her was enough for him to want to work at what they had, to make sacrifices to make her and their son happy?

"Then why did you say all those hurtful words? Why did you spend so little time with me and Rafael? Why have you realised it only now? It took you one year apart to realise that you still loved me?"

Draco looked at his wife and knew that no simple answer or shrug of shoulders would satisfy her.

"This is not something we should discuss on a sidewalk."

She nodded, "So what do you suggest?" She asked him, expectantly.

"My place?" The smirk on his lips gave his intentions away. That and the arm he was snaking around her waist.

In all her good sense, she should have refused, even slapped him on his face and walked off but Ginny had not. She had been reduced to a similar state so many years ago when Draco cornered her one dusky spring evening, backing her against the wall and kissing her till she took complete leave of her senses.

So she agreed, convincing herself that they were going back to the Malfoy Manor to discuss all the pressing issues of their relationship. She went back inside to tell Luna where she was going before coming out to join Draco and apparating together back to the Malfoy Manor.

When he helped her remove her brown cashmere jacket, his fingers lingering on her bare back, Ginny knew she was in trouble. She knew what was going to happen if she stayed and yet she could not imagine leaving.

Sure enough, the moment she turned around he took her face in his hands. Draco had done enough time with patience, he had served his sentence and now did not intend to look past what he wanted.

He kissed Ginny before she could mention she was still thinking their relationship over. His kisses made her feel things she did not want to feel, at least not yet. He got her up against the wall and slipped his hands up under her blouse, and that was that. She did not say, "Stop it," she did not say "Wait," she kissed him back until she was too far gone to think anything over.

Draco was driving her crazy. He knew how to kiss her, he really did; He definitely had the ability to make a woman lose her reason completely, because they there were, in the Malfoy Manor, the home she had left and vowed never to return to. Draco trailed a wet, hot path with his lips and tongue down her slender neck.

If he did not take her into the bedroom soon, she would find herself begging him to make love to her. She could not believe Draco was spending this much time kissing her. All this kissing was reminding her of what he could make her feel and how it could be when you wanted someone as much as he wanted you.

By the time Draco pulled her panties off, Ginny was completely weak in the knees. She did not give a damn about going into the bedroom, she wanted it there and she wanted it now. They made love for as long as they could, right there in the hallway, and then went to the master bedroom and slept for hours, as though they had been drugged.

* * *

Draco, having woken after a few hours from his deeply sated sleep, stared up at the ceiling, the moonlight filtering through the balcony windows into the master bedroom. There was no reason for his sleeplessness, not like before when he dared not sleep on their marital bed, scared to wake up to the harsh reality of the lack of a warm body beside him, specifically one woman's warm body.

Now, he was simply wondering when he had ever gotten so lucky. He wondered how he had survived before this – before Ginny and before Raphael. He was lying close to Ginny on the bed, his head on her neck, his neck on her breasts, his right arm underneath against her back and his left hand on her behind.

He ran his arms and hands over her slender back, her soft thighs, her supple arse, and also felt the solidity of her breasts and stomach against his neck and chest. Her skin was smooth and soft to the touch, the body beneath it tender and reliable. When his hand lay on her calf, he felt the constant twitching play of muscles as she slept; her regular soft breathing filled the still, quiet air.

Ginny shifted slightly and Draco, by habit of five and more years of sharing the same bed with the same woman, unconsciously shifted as well to accommodate her. Sharing a bed with someone, was more than just about the sex, he had come to realise. In fact sex was just the smallest part of what it meant to share a bed long term.

Until he had married Ginny, he had had the bed in the master bedroom of the Malfoy Manor all to himself. Rather than bliss, Ginny had been tossed into a state of confusion. She regularly sat bolt upright and demanded, "Who are you?" Every time Draco would groggily assure her that he was her husband, the love of her life. Every time she flopped down with a relieved sigh.

Draco wished he could remember how they decided who would sleep on what side but he could not. They just sort of landed – he on her right, she on his left.

During the years after marriage, when Rafael came along, he would snuggle between them for night feedings. During those years, Ginny repeatedly pounded Draco awake, demanding to know if one of them had squashed the baby.

Recently, when the bogeyman took to calling, many nights their bed became a fortress, their bodies the walls, and between them Rafael at peace. Draco smiled, as he remembered all those memories they had created together, drifting back into sleep, a contented smile on his face.

* * *

When Ginny awoke, it was early in the morning and the room was still dark. As the familiarity of her surroundings hit her and the events of last night came flooding back, she wondered if she was dreaming.

She could not possibly have spent the night in the master bedroom of the Malfoy Manor, sleeping in her marital bed, beside her soon to be ex-husband. But when she pinched herself it hurt. This was still her, all right.

She ran her hand along Draco's back, just to make certain he was real too. In fact he was real enough to startle her; his muscles and his skin and the heat from his sleeping body made her want him all over again, and she felt foolish, like a schoolgirl who did not stop to consider any consequences.

Ginny sat up, the white sheet pulled around her, and knew she had made the biggest mistake. What had she been thinking last night? Did she even think in the first place? How could Luna have let her go off with Draco without even disagreeing or pulling her back to ask her to think twice?

When had she been so reckless and impulsive? So easily swayed by Draco's charm and touch? She was a grown woman for Merlin's sakes who had to know her responsibilities, which included her job, her home in Daigon Alley and her son.

Those thoughts created a guilt filled sense of urgency to get out of bed and as far away from Draco as possible. Familiar with the Malfoy Manor as she was with The Burrow, after wearing her clothes, she slipped out of the room, down the stairs to the front hall where she could apparate back to her apartment.

Back in her apartment, she showered, scrubbing every inch of her skin in an attempt to rid herself of Draco's smell – that of musk, magic and raw masculinity. After dressing herself, she flooed to The Burrow.

The entire house was still and silent, a peaceful Saturday morning mist hovering about it as all the occupants in the household slept in on the first day of the weekend. Even her mother was not bustling about in the kitchen making breakfast but asleep with her father in the parents' bedroom.

Ginny secretly admired her parents for having stuck it out together this long and still being able to love each other. She knew she could never have that. She closed her eyes momentarily as she stood at the foot of the stairs. Hurt and pain was a difficult emotion to live with and now she had to add a lack of pride as well. What else could explain her irrational behaviour last night?

Pushing those gut wrenching thoughts aside, she moved up the stairs quietly, making her way to her old bedroom –the one Rafael always slept in when he spent the night at the Burrow. Sure enough when she opened the door, her son was huddled under the blue and white comforter, his red hair peeking out from beneath it.

He was clutching onto the dragon soft toy Charlie had given him for his three-year-old birthday. Ginny eased herself onto the bed beside him, sitting at the edge, watching her son sleep. She heard her mother's footsteps in the hallway moving towards the bathroom and knew that the day had begun, cool and clear and impossible to avoid.

Rafael opened his eyes to see his mother staring at him. He had missed her last night, as he always did lately whenever she was not around.

"Hey, baby." Ginny hugged her son, burying her face in his soft downy red hair.

"Mummy," Rafael said, eyes rimmed with sleep dust, his voice still dream infected. "You smell like daddy." Ginny was thrown back by Rafael's startlingly astute observation.

"Do I?" Ginny shrugged it away. "I just wanted to know what you want for breakfast. French toast? Waffles? I think Grandma's got some raisin bread. The one with walnut inside."

He stared at her clueless for what seemed a long while. Rafael had a tough time deciding between anything, Ginny had grown to realise. Tying to force him out of this weakness was obviously not going to work.

'Why don't you have raisin bread first?" She offered.

"Okay. Raisin bread." He agreed, snuggling back under his comforter. Rafael was not lazy by nature but he always had these periods of time where he had to lie around and do nothing before bouncing up and engaging in some vigorous activity full steam on.

"I'll go down and let Grandma know, okay. You want to come down with me?"

He shook his head lazily, then held up his hand, all five fingers spread out. "Five moments." He told her solemnly. He had not completely mastered the concept of time yet and obviously meant five minutes. At least Ginny hoped it meant five minutes and not five hours.

She kissed him on the forehead, "Be quick or else there'll be none left for you." She warned, walking out of the room, feeling a lot more grounded and more herself than she had earlier that morning.

Or so she thought.

**_TBC_**

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_** –

If you want more of this story, please review and let me know what you think of it.

Also if you liked this story, I am sure you will like my other Draco Ginny fics -

For one shot and a slightly dark D/G fics, '**In the Shadows'** and '**Harder to breathe'** will suffice.

For a slightly more light hearted D/G one shot fic, please read and review **'Spring Fever'**

For a more angst filled and longer fic, **'Love on Earth'** a completed six part fic.

For an ongoing epic love story between Draco and Ginny, **'That Thing You Do'** should satisfy your appetites.

Do **READ AND REVIEW!!!!** PLEASE! I promise **you will not regret it**! If you do, let me know, I'll make it up to you…lol…


	2. Part II

**You Are The Only One**

**Summary** – DG, Post Hogwarts, a tad AU-ish. What happens when your marriage does not turn out the way you envisioned? Would you stay, knowing that life would be a bit worse? Or would you cut and leave? Most importantly does true love last a lifetime? Ginny and Draco struggle to find out the answers before it is too late.

**DISCLAIMER – Anything you recognise is not mine.**

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**Part Two**

_Love each other or perish_ – Professor Morrie in Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom

* * *

No one could guess how Draco had panicked when he had awoken to find Ginny gone from his bed. He had been ready to run down to his study and floo-call the Magical Law Enforcement Office, demanding a search party. 

In those moments when he had climbed from his bed, Draco guessed that he had somehow managed to lose her, as he had lost most things in his life. If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that he had a real fear of people disappearing on him. That was why he turned to something as reliable yet risky as business to give him the sense of control that he lacked in other areas of his life.

In spite of all this, Draco had gone and fallen in love with the most unpredictable woman he had ever met; and he could not fight it, he did not even want to try. He wished that he could tie Ginny up in his room, with ropes made of silk; he wished that he never had to let her go.

Yet he paced his bedroom, clad in only his silk black pyjama pants, with the full knowledge that he was the one tied in knots. He wanted to ask Ginny to come back to him, to never leave him; instead, he summoned one of the house elves for his coffee and copy of the Daily Prophet.

* * *

As she sat in the kitchen of the house she was raised in, watching her son devour his raisin bread and crunch happily on the walnuts while her mother make pancakes for herself and her father, Ginny realised that she had a big problem in her hands. 

Before last night, leaving Draco without giving it a second thought had been so much easier. All she had to do was remember their last year of marriage – all the fights and hurtful words, the countless hours he spent holed up at the office or his study, rarely spending time with the family – the last straw being the fight when he had actually thrown the dresser at her. (Well, she had flung her hairdryer at him a week before that but nonetheless)

All of those memories would remind Ginny of the hurt, and the fact that their marriage was beyond hope, beyond repair. It was possible that he did not even love her anymore; after some periods of fighting, they rarely made love.

Now however, the pain and hurt of all those memories seemed numbed somehow, as if last night's events took greater precedence – the look in his eyes when he told he loved her and wanted her, the way he touched her, kissed her and made love to her.

It was not time that healed all wounds, Ginny mused detachedly, it was love that did so. Now, Draco seemed so much sweeter. Besides, that cloying smell that was distinctly him seemed to be in her clothes and hair; it was driving her nuts.

She tried to get a grip of herself but to no avail. No one, not even her mother, could have guessed that the reason she dropped her steaming cup of hot coffee was because she could not stop thinking about the things Draco did to her last night, the way he whispered to her. It was as though she had been transported, last night, back to the time when a kiss meant something, when it could bring her to her knees.

Molly turned around to place the pancakes on a plate in front of Ginny and caught the dreamy look on her daughter's face, one so reminiscent of the look Ginny had had on her wedding day, so filled with hope, love and faith. Ginny's eyes were luminous and much darker than usual; her mouth was as red as a rose.

Molly had never seen her daughter look so unlike her usual self. She wondered about the dubious explanation Ginny had given her about spending the night back in her place after going out with Luna since it had been rather late to return to The Burrow. Ginny, after all, rarely liked to spend the night away from her son.

Later that day, when Ginny got back to her place with Rafael, and after letting her son go to his room to tidy his room, she had to scoop ice cubes out of the freezer and run them along her arms and inside her thighs just to chill her desire.

The thought of Draco coming over to the apartment at half past noon as he usually didto pick Rafael up for the weekend forced Ginny to take a cold shower. Yet she could not seem to forget how Draco had made love to her for so long last night that she still ached, and she did not even regret not having thought of asking him to stop.

"Mummy, is something wrong?" Rafael asked, seeing his mother sitting on the couch in the living room cross-legged with her eyes closed and taking deep breaths.

Ginny opened her eyes and smiled at her son. On his shoulders, he carried his Falcon Falmouth bag that she had packed for him, and on his face, he wore a look of earnest concern. She put her arms out to him. He needed no further invitation.

Bag and all, Rafael dove into his mother's arms and they tumbled in a mess of arms and legs onto the couch. Both mother and son felt equally comfortable all tangled up with each other and did not move.

"I'm fine. Did you pack some of your toys and books?"

"Nah. Daddy said we'd be going for a Quidditch game tomorrow morning. I have some books and toys back at home." He paused here, as if thinking about something.

"I mean my other home. Aren't I lucky, mummy? I have two homes."

Ginny felt as if her heart was breaking in her chest, into piercing shards.

"I love you, you know, Rafael."

"I love you too."

They lay there for a while on the couch, her arms around her son, his face in her shoulder, one of his short stubby legs draped over her waist. That was how Draco found them, when he apparated into Ginny's flat.

He smiled; filled with love for the only two people in this world he loved beyond reckoning. Despite all the differences he and Ginny had, especially in the last year of marriage, he always loved and cherished those memories of his son – Rafael as an infant, a toddler standing up in his crib with his arms wide open to greet his father who had come home late from work.

"Daddy!" His son's voice and the smile on his face as he looked up from his mother's shoulder hit Draco's stomach like a strong drink, the warmth spreading.

Rafael leapt off the couch and ran into his father's arms. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, buddy." Draco tried to keep his voice even.

In one swift, fluid movement, he was holding Rafael in his arms. Draco looked at Ginny getting up from the couch slowly, as if she were already weary this early in the day.

"I've packed his clothes and his meds," she said, not meeting Draco's eyes.

"I'm taking him to the Quidditch match tomorrow," Draco informed her, searching her face for a sign, any sign that her mind had changed since last night.

"I already told mummy." Rafael spoke up, sensing something in the air between his parents.

"Yes he did, and you have a few more documents to sign regarding the divorce. I'll have my legal officer contact you," Ginny said firmly. Her veins felt as though they were filled with ice water instead of blood as she forced herself to remember all that Draco had put her through during their marriage – the neglect, the fights.

Draco felt his chest tighten. It seemed that her pride was stronger than her love for him. Well, he decided, two could be play the game.

"Fine." He nodded curtly. "We'll be going then."

"Bye, sweetie," Ginny said, taking a step forward to kiss her son on his cheek.

After they left, Ginny sat back on the couch, her body weak with exhaustion. She held her head in her hands as sobs wrecked her body; they echoed off the walls of the apartment, making her feel even more lonely and dejected.

She remembered then, because hurt brings with it hurtful memories, the painful two weeks after she had left Malfoy Manor and temporarily put up at The Burrow. That entire time she did not speak. She simply had nothing to say, not even to her beloved son.

If Ginny heard the rustle of her mother's skirts announcing her entrance into a room, she walked out. If she recognized her father's footsteps on the stairs as he came to check on her or wish her good night, she got up from her chair by the window just in time to bolt her door. She never heard her parents knocking; she just put her hands over her ears.

During those two weeks, Ginny let her parents take care of Rafael. She did not bother with healthy dinners or proper mealtimes. She waited until she was starving and then ate canned peas out of the tin as she stood near the sink. She rarely went outside. When Hermione or Luna came over to talk, she would simply sit on her bed and listen to them; she still would not speak.

"You can't fall apart," Hermione would insist, in her rich, urgent voice, "You're my only close gal pal. I need you."

All the same, Ginny would not bathe, or eat, or play 'seeker' games with her son. She cried so many tears that there were mornings when she could not open her eyes.

"Wake up," Luna would say when she dropped by when Harry was on assignment, "What do I have to do to snap you out of it?"

"Life is for the living," Bill told her, "Life is what you make of it. Come on. Just listen to what I am saying. Please."

He had come down during the weekend, straight from France where he had set up home with Fleur. He had taken a leave of absence from his work at Gringotts just to see Ginny upon hearing what had happened from his mother.

Bill's presence was the only thing that brought Ginny comfort like nothing else could, she often found herself sitting on her bed, waiting for him to come up to her bedroom to talk to her. Ginny thought long and hard each time after Bill spoke to her.

She thought about the sound of Rafael's footsteps on the stairs when he went up to bed without a good night hug. She thought about Draco and how it had all ended. She considered each one of his kisses and all the harsh words he had said to her.

Slowly, Ginny began to order things in her mind – grief and joy, dollars and cents, a child's cry and the look on his face when you blew him a kiss on a windy afternoon. Such things might be worth living for.

Exactly two weeks to the date that Ginevra walked out on her husband, she got out of bed and brushed her long red hair. She even took a pair of scissors and trimmed it until her hair reached the nape of her neck. She put on a dress she had not worn in a long time and went down for breakfast with her family.

Her son's first words to her were, "Mummy's better now? Can we go back home?"

She pulled Rafael into her arms and rained kisses on his face. It was Bill who started to laugh, coming from behind to engulf his sister and nephew in a bear hug.

She would never forget what her mother told her later, "We thought we'd lost you. I was even prepared to owl Draco, but your father said not to interfere in such matters between couples."

"Dad's right, Mum. It's over, between me and Draco," She had said it then with such resoluteness that she even surprised herself.

After having a long talk with her son that afternoon about how Mummy and Daddy could no longer live together because they had too many differences and did not make each other happy anymore, she went down to meet her legal officer in London to arrange for the separation and inevitably the divorce.

Ginny understood then what love could do to a person. She understood far too well to ever let it happen again. That was why she had to go on with the divorce proceedings despite what had happened between them last night.

* * *

The following week found Ginny sick in bed at The Burrow. Her boss had sent her home that day, insisting on her taking a few days off. Knowing that staying in her apartment and taking care of Rafael all by herself would do no good; Ginny went over to The Burrow. When ailed with a fever, always return to your roots. 

"You look terrible," Harry said, when he came up to her room that afternoon. She was feverish, her nose red, and she wore flannel pyjamas though the weather outside was warm.

"Thanks so much," Ginny tried to run her fingers through her knotted hair. She had been working on a book, which had to be edited by the end of the week, ready for publishing.

"What are you doing here anyway?" She asked, puzzled.

Harry was normally either busy with his Auror job or putting up with Luna's nonsense as her live-in lover. Luna Lovegood had serious commitment issues, not that Ginny was one to talk. Thinking about Draco even for a moment, made it difficult for her to breathe. It was so ridiculous that Ginny resorted to a child's trick to ward off whatever was bothering her and began to count to one hundred.

"I picked up Rafael from nursery school," Harry said as he arranged the flowers he had bought in the water glass on her bedside table. "Draco couldn't make it, so he contacted Luna to let her know. Since Luna had some work to finish off at the nursery school and I happened to meet her for lunch, I offered to bring Rafael back home. I'm between assignments so I'm quite free myself," he explained.

"Oh, and to have a piece of your mother's famous pumpkin pie," Harry added as an after thought.

"Thanks Harry," Ginny said gratefully. "But where's Rafael?" she asked, before blowing her nose. Honestly, she was a bit irritated that Draco had not picked up Rafael himself. It annoyed her that for him, business meetings and office work took precedence over the welfare of his family.

"He's downstairs, having lunch I think…so how are things between you and Draco?" Harry knew that it was a dangerous thing to ask, but he had always been rather supportive of Ginny's relationship with Draco, having worked with him during the Second War and being open minded enough to accept him as friend.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at his question. "We're getting a divorce. How'd you think things would be?"

"But Lu told me you went back to Malfoy Manor with him sometime ago."

Ginny hated the way word of her business got around so quickly. "We just talked. That's all."

"So?" he probed, "how did that go?"

"You ask too many questions, Potter." Ginny brushed him off.

"Maybe you should give him a chance, Ginny. Everyone makes mistakes, y'know."

Ginny shook her head, stubbornly unwilling. She knew Harry and Draco had bonded and looked out for each other ever since the Second War. It was something Draco himself had told her about how looking death in the face with someone could bind you together in innumerable ways. However she knew that Harry would never know how it felt to be _married_ to Draco Malfoy.

"You two even have the flu at the same time. That should tell you something," Harry told her.

Was love catching, like a common cold? Or was it more a virus that afflicted a person gradually until the unsuspecting individual was sick with love, consumed by it, riddled by its after effects? Ginny realised that her blood was so hot; it felt like burnt sugar inside her veins. Was it possible that her light-headedness was as much caused by thinking about Draco as it was from her fever? Why was it so difficult for her to recognize her heart's own desire?

"So that's why he couldn't fetch Rafael?" Ginny felt a tad sheepish about being so judgmental earlier and instinctively jumping to conclusions. She was glad she had not aired her opinions.

Harry nodded. "You'd better get some rest," he said, before patting her arm and leaving.

There was a knock on her door a minute later, and her mother came in, carrying a tray.

"What's this?" Ginny asked, confused and irritated by life in general.

"Your grandmother's recipe for break-a-fever tea; mint and lemon with lavender and honey. And I've got some of the stuff your brothers hate here too, bird's nest pudding. It's supposed to be good for you."

There was indeed a bowl full of some unrecognisable pudding like stuff poured into a baked apple. The last thing she wanted was food, but she forced herself to take a taste of the pudding. To please her mother, she realised. Since she could not seem to please anyone else these days.

"It's creamy," Ginny muttered, with a half-hearted smile.

"I sent Harry with some of the tea for Draco, I hear he's sick as well."

Ginny looked up at her mother sharply. "I'm sure Harry has better things to do, Mum.".

"No. He has a few days off work, he told me himself. And he didn't mind, he hadn't seen Draco in a while it seems."

Ginny willed herself not to scream in frustration. "Where's Rafael?" she asked instead.

"He's out in the yard playing, Arthur's watching him. I don't want him coming in here until your fever goes down, he might get infected."

Ginny nodded in response, too weak to protest.

She thought about what Harry had said all day as her fever raged. She thought about cups of tea and the strange turns love took. In the evening, Molly came back with some vegetable broth and cold compress for Ginny's forehead and not long after Ginny's fever broke. One minute she was burning up and the next she was cool and refreshed, probably the result of her mother's tea. Break-a-fever, break a heart; break every rule if you must.

* * *

Seven weeks later, the vomiting began. Ginny held her hair back with one hand as she kneeled on the cold bathroom floor, retching into the toilet bowl. Rafael was having breakfast in the kitchen and she had but fifteen minutes to get him ready before the magic school bus arrived to take him to nursery school. 

When the wave of nausea passed, Ginny got on her feet feeling slightly woozy. After splashing some cold water on her face, she rushed out, grateful that her son had finished his breakfast.

"Mum, were you throwing up?" he asked in concern as Ginny tied his shoelaces.

"A bit, hon. I think I had something bad to eat. But you don't worry about it okay? Have fun at school," she reassured him, helping him put on his coat and watching as he slipped his bag onto his shoulders.

Hand in hand, they went out to wait for the bus. The strong stench of coffee from a nearby apartment made Ginny feel terribly nauseated all over again, but thankfully, the bus had arrived. With a pat on his bum and a kiss on his cheek, Ginny sent Rafael into the bus and waved until it disappeared with a loud 'crack'.

By Thursday, Ginny was sick and tired of running to the toilet every time she smelled scrambled eggs, or coffee, especially in the morning. Luna, who had seen how pale her complexion had become, and how thin she had gotten when Ginny came down to fetch Rafael from school, had insisted that Ginny drop by St. Mungo's for a check-up. Ginny however, refused. She had no time - that was her excuse; that was what she told Luna before rushing off.

For the past year – except for those two weeks after she left Draco when she went so inside herself that she could barely find her way out – Ginny had taken on the role of super-mum, being both mother and father for her son. She planned to make up for whatever emotional affects the divorce might have on Rafael, no matter the cost on herself. She dedicated most of her time to her son.

Friends might fall away, and her days of reviewing other writers' books instead of writing her own might bore her silly, but Ginny hardly cared about such distractions. Her only interest was her son. Hermione and Luna had gotten used to Ginny rushing off in the middle of lunch or tea appointments to tend to Rafael.

Ginny was preoccupied with making sure that her son got well-balanced meals and at least eight hours of sleep every night. She spent her Saturdays chopping up broccoli and kale for nourishing soups, since she no longer had house elves to help her. She sat up on long nights with Rafael's earaches, stomachaches, and nightmares. She laced boots, read books, played with him, and never once complained.

Now look at her, the one occasion that she listened to her mother and taken a break, had ended disastrously. She knew now to hold to her own and never falter.

Selfish desires dissolved the way dreams did, Ginny knew that for certain, leaving behind nothing more than an imprint on the pillowcase, a hole in your heart, a list of regrets so long you could wrap them around yourself like a quilt.

Ginny tried not to think of those regrets as she sat in the conference room of a posh wizarding legal office in London, a few days later. She sat with her legal officer, a middle-aged witch named Lynn who was a senior partner at this law office, and very experienced in Family Law. They were waiting for Draco and his legal officer to arrive.

"Everything will be fine, Ginny. We're just signing some documents regarding the custody arrangement, that's all. The actual finalisation of divorce is still a month away," Lynn assured her.

Lynn had obviously mistaken the glassy look of Ginny's brown eyes and her exceedingly pale complexion as signs of nervousness. In actual fact, Ginny was not feeling well at all. She felt incredibly weak and faint. She had skipped lunch to attend this meeting, and had barely eaten breakfast. Ginny had been too busy trying to get Rafael to finish his in time for school to bother with her own.

Her breathing was shallow and panicky, but she took a deep breath as Draco walked in, exuding his usual elegance. The aura of power around him was unmistakable. His legal officer, an elderly man named Joe Salco, followed after him.

After the legal officers exchanged greetings, the documents were passed back and forth across the table for signing.

"Well, that was fast. You should be thankful that your wife is not some gold digging wench, Mr. Malfoy. All she wants is child support," Lynn commented causally as they wrapped up the meeting. Mr. Salco had already packed his briefcase, obviously having to rush off to another meeting similar to this.

"Ginny's not like that," Draco said quietly, although the authority in his voice palpable. "That's not her way. She knows that there are more important things in life than money. She has always been that way. That's what I lo-"

"Shut up, Draco." Ginny's eyes flashed across the table at him, her voice was brittle and sharp with icy white anger. Her breathing was still off and there was a ripple of panic when she inhaled.

"Just shut up, okay. Stop trying to make me regret this. Stop making me feel guilty. Stop making me feel like the bad guy. Just stop it!" She stood up, ready to leave him, ready to leave this room which seemed to be sucking the oxygen out of her.

Ginny's breathing was so shallow that each time she inhaled, she wheezed in some strangled way, like rabbits when they picked up the scent of a coyote. He rose from his seat, opening his mouth as if to speak, to say something. She shook her head violently, holding out her hand, which was trembling just as fiercely as the rest of her body. She had not realized it until then.

The last thing Ginny remembered before everything went black was a pair of strong, muscular arms encircling her waist, catching her before she hit the floor.

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	3. Part III

**You Are the Only One**

**Summary** – DG, Post Hogwarts, a tad AU-ish. What happens when your marriage does not turn out the way you envisioned? Would you stay, knowing that life would be a bit worse? Or would you cut and leave? Most importantly does true love last a lifetime? Ginny and Draco struggle to find out the answers before it is too late.

**DISCLAIMER – Anything you recognise is not mine.**

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**Part Three**

_"Marriage is about being tested, you find out who you are, who the other person is and how you accommodate or you don't." _- Professor Morrie in Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom

* * *

When Ginny came to, she was lying on an examination table in what looked to be one of the exam rooms in St. Mungo's. The sterile atmosphere and the antiseptic smell of alcohol gave it away. Oddly though, she was still in her office clothes. Something was off, but just as Ginny was going to holler out for someone, the nurse, Mrs. Blackman as her nametag read, entered the room.

"Ah! You're awake," she smiled pleasantly.

"How long have I been… did I black out?" Ginny asked anxiously.

"Only fifteen minutes or so," the nurse responded, "Just long enough to worry your husband."

"Ex-husband," Ginny was quick to assert.

"Well, he's outside waiting, and the healer will be here in a moment."

"I feel fine now. Really."

"I don't think so, Mrs. Malfoy-"

"Miss. Weasley, please," Ginny interjected, growing upset.

"It's just that we've only done a superficial charm diagnosis and the healer needs to confirm the results," the nurse beamed.

Ginny however, could not share Mrs. Blackman's enthusiasm. She felt weak, tired, and weary in general. She wished briefly that Draco were there in the room, standing by her bed and holding her hand for moral support. The door opened then and the Healer strode in.

"Hello dear, I'm Healer Dennis Harper."

Healer Harper was not who Ginny had expected. He seemed much too young to be a healer. His face had charming boyish features, and they clashed unusually with his balding head. He smiled again before going over to the sink to wash his hands.

"So how long have you been having these dizzy spells?" He asked, reading her medical chart.

"Today was the first time I've completely blacked out, but I've been feeling dizzy on and off for the past few weeks. Nothing too serious though," Ginny answered.

"Any vomiting? Nausea?" He asked.

Ginny nodded. "Especially in the mornings, I can't stand coffee or eggs," she shuddered at the mere thought of those food.

"Just as I had thought." The healer exchanged an amused look with the nurse.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, not appreciating their amusement at her expense.

"Give us a moment," the doctor then placed the tip of his wand on her stomach, muttering some incantation. A great sense of déjà vu filled Ginny, but she could not place it.

"Well, Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny did not bother correcting him this time. "Your files say that you've been pregnant before, so I'm surprised that you didn't notice the signs earlier."

It took a while for his words to sink in, but when they did, Ginny sat up abruptly, her jaw slack as she stared at the healer. He simply smiled and nodded his head.

"You can't be serious… no… NO, absolutely not! Not now…" Ginny was just about ready to put her head in her hands and start sobbing her insides out.

The healer seemed to not notice her distress. "Yes, you're pregnant, one month approximately. In exactly a month's time, we'll be able to confirm the gender," he informed her, thoroughly pleased.

The nurse spoke up, "from experience though, I'd say it's going to be girl," Ginny turned to stare at the nurse who, like the Healer, had a huge grin plastered on her face.

Now Ginny really could notstop the tears. They welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks, dropping silently off her jaw. A _girl_. She had always wanted a daughter after having Rafael. So did Draco. After Rafael was born, he often joked that their son needed a little sister rather badly.

That had been one of Draco's favourite ways of coaxing her into bed with him. He would put his hand on her top, around her breasts, and kiss her. Somehow, that would always make her smile. After a while, though, all that had stopped; and with it all ideas of having another child. Yet now, it seemed that fate had other ideas.

"I'm pregnant," Ginny murmured to herself, the beginnings of a smile glimmering on her lips.

That was how Draco found her once the Healer told him that he could go in to see his wife. Draco never bothered to correct him. The smug smile on the healer's face had unnerved him though. As he walked into the examination room, that smile was the last thing on his mind.

There was Ginny, sitting on the exam table; her head tilted back, the salt mark of tears on her cheeks and a funny sort of smile on her face. Draco fell in love with her all over again, which was crazy since he loved her already, but there he was – falling for the woman who he had loved for most of his life.

Draco remembered that Ginny was the only woman he knew who could make his pulse accelerate simply by resting her hand on his leg. He remembered how he liked to blow her hair away from her neck before he kissed the freckles that dotted the back of her neck in the shape of a star.

Some people can remember the exact moment when they lost everything. They can look back and see it as plain as day, and for their lives, they cannot understand why they did not recognize and prevent the situation as it was happening.

It was always a mistake to threaten someone, "_Don't you dare walk out that door_," and a far worse mistake to actually cross the threshold and walk out on the one you love. Both Ginny and Draco were thinking that at that exact moment, wondering if there was anything they could have done differently.

It was too late now, Ginny realised, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Besides, what guarantee was there that their problems would not resurface with time? She would have to have this baby alone.

"What did the healer say was wrong?" Draco asked, concerned.

Ginny shook her head. "Just low blood-pressure," she lied, unable to meet his silver-eyed gaze.

She took her handbag, which he was holding onto, thanked him, and left – almost as if they were two people who chanced upon in each other in the streets now and then.

* * *

That night, Hermione received an owl from Ginny asking her to come over as soon as she could. After making sure there was no way for Ron to burn down the house or cause some other unintentional destruction while she was away, and promising him that she would be back ASAP, Hermione floo-ed to Ginny's place.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione asked Ginny as she stepped out of the fireplace, dusting soot off her cloak.

"Can't a woman have a chat with her best friend?" Ginny asked jokingly, as Hermione followed her into the kitchen.

"Please tell me you're not serious. Ron will kill you for dragging me away from him for a lady's_ chat_ tonight of all nights." Ginny laughed as she conjured two mugs of warm hot chocolate for the two of them.

"I had forgotten it was a Thursday night," Ginny smirked, rolling her eyes.

Hermione had once told Ginny that after few years of marriage, she and Ron had decided to set aside a night of the week which they _had_ to spend together and do what most couples do – make love. The reason was simple; they did not want their marriage to fall victim to their busy schedules and Ron's overseas stints as keeper for the Chudley Cannons.

"You did say it was urgent," Hermione said, making herself comfortable on one of the bar stools at the counter.

Ginny, who was standing behind the counter, was much too nervous to sit. She had to tell someone, and it was best that it be Hermione. She decided not to beat around the bush.

"I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant," Hermione repeated. After a long pause and a heavy stare she added, "whose baby is it?" Hermione waited eagerly for a response even though she was quite sure of the answer.

"Who do you think?"

Hermione gave her an awestruck look. "So you _did_ sleep with Malfoy that night," she paused to sip her hot chocolate before adding with a grin, "you liar."

Ginny could not deny it. "I'm not going back to him because of this. This will not change things. And I can't believe I even slept with him in the first place."

"Love does things for reasons reason cannot understand."

"But I do not love him, 'Mione."

"You sound like you're convincing yourself more than anyone else." Hermione noted, shrewdly.

"Draco's a bastard, and that's all the convincing I need." As soon as she had said it, Ginny felt guilty for talking about Draco in such a way. At least her son was safely tucked up in bed and sound asleep. She and Draco had agreed to refrain from bad mouthing each other in front of Rafael.

Honestly though, she rarely could bring herself to talk badly about Draco even after all he had done to her. This was one of those rarities. Hell, she was frustrated – more so because of the way she was feeling about Draco than anything else.

"Schmucks are people too," Hermione said, using Ron's new word of the month.

Ginny wished Hermione would not say such things. Maybe then she would not have this feeling deep inside, a feeling she could deny all she wanted but would never cease to be a feeling of pure desire. Even worse, carrying Draco's daughter inside of her did not help the situation.

"Does he know?" Hermione asked.

"No, you're the only one who knows now. Besides, he doesn't need to know, it might not even be his." Ginny lowered her mouth to her mug as she realised how horrible she was at fabricating lies.

"Oh, _please_," Hermione snapped, "when you first told me, I was thinking along the lines of an immaculate conception. You barely even have time for yourself. So you _obviously_ have no time in your life for any other man besides your son and your husband."

"Ex-husband," Ginny corrected impulsively.

"Forget it, Ginny. You no longer have any right to correct me when I call Malfoy your husband, do you understand? What sort of woman has a one night stand with the man she is preparing to divorce?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"A woman who loves that man, that's who. Don't be so prideful and blinded," answered Hermione, remaining unfazed by Ginny's sarcasm. Now that she had begun, she had to go ahead and make her point.

"Are you done?" Ginny's tone was pure ice, and Hermione did not fail to notice she was being frozen out.

"Yes, I am." Hermione backed off.

"For your information, I had too much to drink that night," Ginny said, sounding a little hysterical. Who could blame her though? Such a predicament was mind boggling and shocking at the very least.

"I presume you want this to stay between us." Hermione ventured.

"Absolutely."

"And what, may I ask, are you going to do when your pregnancy starts to show?"

"Skip town?" Ginny suggested, making a feeble attempt at a joke. Hermione glared at her.

"We'll cross the bridge when we come to it." Ginny told her.

"Well, the bridge is a lot nearer than you think, Ginny." Hermione warned her, sensibly. _That_ was what Ginny was most afraid of.

* * *

Draco ran his fingers distractedly through his hair and sighed. Here he was in his office crunching numbers once again. It was one of his least favourite parts of his job, but it had to be done. Pushing his chair away from his desk, he surveyed his progress and mused that he might actually get everything done. This was due largely to the fact that he had instructed his secretary, Peggy, to divert all of his fire-callers and visitors.

And it was for this reason that Draco was even more surprised than he would usually have been at having his office door flung open to reveal a rather calm and nonchalant Harry Potter. Peggy stood behind him looking very flustered.

"I tried to stop him from coming in, Sir," she explained, "he just refused to listen to me." She stood in the doorway wringing her hands in trepidation as Harry made himself comfortable on one of the cushioned seats in front of the huge oak desk, immediately across from Draco.

Draco withheld another sigh and waved Peggy off. "It's fine. Potter's just used to having his way." Harry snorted.

"You were talking about yourself, right?" Harry asked, smiling, as Peggy left looking relieved.

"So what brings you here? And why are you so free nowadays?" Draco pushed aside the sheaf of papers he had been going through and hefted his dragon-skin-booted feet up onto the table, leaning back in his chair. It was time for a break.

"I put in a request for more paper work."

"You? Of all people?"

Harry shrugged, "I need to spend more time with Luna."

"Admirable, Potter," Draco commented.

Harry shrugged, modesty a well-worn cloak for him. "You look worse than hippogriff dung. What's up with that?"

Draco gave Harry a pointed look, "you said that the last time you saw me too."

"You had the cold then. What's your excuse now, Malfoy?"

Draco hated getting sick and the last time had been exceptionally bad. He had fallen victim to the flu, a potent springtime variety that boiled the blood and made for light-headedness, an illness that left him suffering with aching bones and a cough that rattled his ribs.

Perhaps he was so afflicted because his resistance was down; in losing his wife, he appeared to have lost everything. Ginny had always risen to the occasion whenever he fell ill – pampering him, babying him, and administering his medicine.

"I'm bogged down with work, the divorce, and the fact that my wife's pregnant."

Harry was not expecting the last bit. His jaw practically grazed the floor as he stared at Draco in disbelief. He looked plain exhausted, though there was something akin to a feral gleam in his grey eyes.

"WHAT? Ginny!" Harry asked, askance and flabbergasted.

"Yes, Ginevra," snapped Draco irritably, rising from his seat to face the row of windows behind his desk which overlooked Hyde Park.

He was not taking in the view, but wondering about his wife and the baby growing inside of her. He had been thinking about them a lot the past couple of weeks, ever since he had found out from the healer at St. Mungo's. Draco felt a tad more relieved telling someone about it, rather than bottling it all up, as he had been doing all the while.

"But… but… how?" Harry looked more affected than Draco would have expected. More than anything, he was surprised Harry did not already know. Harry seemed to be thinking along those lines as well. "I mean, Luna would have told me if she knew. And as far as a I know, Ginny's not seeing anyone else."

Draco's shoulders sagged with relief at hearing those words from Harry. "Are you sure she's not seeing anyone?"

Harry shrugged, "Not that sure. I mean, if Luna didn't tell me about the pregnancy, chances are she'd probably not tell me if Ginny's was in a relationship."

Draco was back in his seat, slumped in it in fact. The Malfoy façade of grace and refined mannerisms dissipated in panic filled doubts that had been eating away at him the past few weeks – was the child his or not?

"If it makes you feel better, I don't think Ginny would have told anyone," Draco told him.

"Wait a minute," Harry said, his Auror instincts kicking in, "why are you so concerned about Ginny's dating someone? It's obvious she had to be seeing someone secretly, right? That's why she's pregnant. I mean, unless…" Harry trailed off as realization dawned in his eyes, as bright as the afternoon sun blazing outside.

"You didn't…" Harry's voice was filled with disbelief.

Draco took a deep breath, " I thought it was a reconciliation. But she felt it was a mistake and left in the morning, never wanted to talk about it and so on."

"So you slept with her and now you don't know if you're the father or not, right?"

"That just about sums up my dilemma." Draco glanced across at Harry, evaluating how much he could really trust his friend. His memories of The War reminded him that he could. "Well, that's where you come in."

"What do you mean?" Harry was suspicious.

"Could you do some nosing around to find out what's going on? Who the father is? What Ginny's planning to do? That sort of thing." Harry did not protest. He was nodding, the wheels in his head turning as he tried to think of ways to get the needed information.

"How did you know about it if she did not tell you?" Harry asked, briefly confused.

Draco had to explain to him all that had happened that afternoon, nearly over two months ago, at the legal office and how they ended up at St. Mungo's where Ginny had been rather evasive, causing his suspicious instincts to kick in. Thus, he had cornered the healer, inquired about Ginny's condition, and gotten all the necessary information.

"Well, I'll be off then." Harry stood, already weighted down by this unexpected news, as he mulled over it and digested it. "I'll let you know anything I find out," Harry reassured Draco, who looked more anxious than ever.

"Thanks," Draco managed.

"Don't mention it." Harry walked towards the door to let himself out before things got any more awkward.

He paused then, his hand at the doorknob. He turned to face Draco who was reshuffling his papers, preparing to drown himself in his work.

"Malfoy," Draco looked up and threw Harry a questioning look, "if the baby's yours, what then?"

Draco did not hesitate. The notion had crossed his mind more times than he could count. He knew precisely what he had to do. "I'll have to make Gin come back to me."

* * *

Always keep mint on your windowsills in August to ensure that buzzing flies stay outside, where they belong. Do not think that summer is over even when roses droop and turn brown and the stars shift position in the sky.

Never presume August is a safe and reliable time of the year. It is the season of reversals, when birds no longer sing in the morning and the evenings are made up of equal parts golden light and black clouds. The rock solid and the tenuous can easily exchange places until everything you know can be questioned and put into doubt.

It was Luna Lovegood's intention to ignore August completely and sleep for four weeks, refusing to wake up until September when life was settled and nursery school had already begun. Less than a week into this difficult month, however, her boyfriend Harry informed her that her good friend Ginny Weasley was pregnant.

He told Luna right after they made love at her place, a cottage so small he could talk to her from bed while she fixed them hot fudge sundaes.

"What rubbish," Luna said when he told her about Ginny being pregnant, "I'd be the first to know."

"We're probably the only ones who know," Harry informed her.

If she let herself, Luna could become invested in Harry. This was the reason she was ready to argue whenever she had the chance – to ward off anything deeper than what they already had.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Malfoy himself had to find out from the healer who attended to Ginny after she fainted. She hasn't told anyone, well, at least that's what Malfoy thinks."

"So you found this out from Malfoy?"

"Yes, he told me a few weeks ago."

"And you did not feel the urgency to tell me then?"

Harry got out of bed and stood in front of Luna. He was one of the few men Luna knew who looked better without clothes than with them.

"You were busy with school the past few weeks, Luna. I was preoccupied as well, taking on my new duties at the Auror Headquarters."

The hot fudge was ready, but Luna did not bother with it. She did not even take notice that the ice cream she scooped had begun to melt. "Pregnant… but I saw her most days when she came to pick up Rafael. She didn't look it at all."

"According to what the healer told Malfoy, she should be around three months or so now. I guess she wouldn't start to show till later, right?"

Luna nodded her head slowly. "When is she planning to tell people? She cannot have a baby in secret… How did she even get pregnant in the first place?" Luna mused aloud.

Harry shrugged, "That's the mystery. No one knows who the father is."

"She's not even dating anyone," Luna told him. She was completely puzzled.

Harry hesitated before deciding not to tell her about the one nightstand between Ginny and Malfoy. It was better that she heard it from the horse's mouth.

**_TBC_**

* * *

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	4. Part IIII

**You Are the Only One**

**Summary** – DG, Post Hogwarts, a tad AU-ish. What happens when your marriage does not turn out the way you envisioned? Would you stay, knowing that life would be a bit worse? Or would you cut and leave? Most importantly does true love last a lifetime? Ginny and Draco struggle to find out the answers before it is too late.

**DISCLAIMER – Anything you recognise is not mine.**

**

* * *

Part Four **

_Love is a gift, not an obligation – Salma Hayek in Fools Rush In_

* * *

In October, the weather was generally tricky, but today it was warm and sunny, with a wide blue sky that brought tears to Ginny's eyes. Then again, the slightest thing brought tears to Ginny's eyes these days– even the smell of the lemon tree in the garden at The Burrow made her sob. It was the bloody hormones gone amok, making her feel everything so much more intensely than ever before. 

"Ginevra?"

Ginny decided not to take notice of the voice, to pretend she did not hear it as she walked down the streets of Hogsmead. She was intent on shopping for treats, not tricks, for the Halloween celebration she had planned in her humble home for her son. (She was hoping that Fred and George would not drop by on Halloween night as they had insisted to entertain their nephew.)

Rafael was especially looking forward to this Halloween because, unlike last year, he got to spend Halloween with his mother. His grandmother Molly, had even promised him a 'Prince Charming' costume, and he so longed to wear to school in two days time for the Halloween celebrations. Rafael had tried it on yesterday when Molly had come by to the apartment with it since Ginny could no longer travel by floo network to The Burrow.

Molly reasoned that it was not safe for Ginny or the baby especially with the pregnancy already in its sixth month. Ginny's mother had been surprisingly calm about the pregnancy, but had demanded to know who the father was. Ginny, unable to lie to her mother, had told her the truth.

It was her father who had taken the news rather hard, retreating to his study for days until Molly cleverly pointed out that this pregnancy would most likely bring Ginny and Draco back together. After all, Ginny _had_ been complaining for the past few weeks that Draco seemed to be postponing the divorce proceedings, citing a hectic business schedule as the reason. Arthur had conceded, and thus come to his senses, going back to showing Ginny the love he had always felt.

Other than her parents and Hermione, no one else, not even her brothers, knew who the father of her child was. Ginny was determined to continue with the divorce, regardless of how difficult things would get. She knew, deep down, that revealing the identity of the father would only complicate things further.

So there she was, walking along a Hogsmead street at a ridiculously brisk pace, trying to ignore the voice calling out her name, trying to forget the way only that voice could make her name sound so damn alluring. Ginny did not realise how close to her that voice had gotten, until the man grabbed her arm, his fingers clasped around it in a vice-like grip.

"Ow! Let go of me, you-"

Draco abruptly let go of the woman as she turned around, the size of her swollen stomach startling him. Ginny stumbled backward from being released so suddenly, but managed to steady herself.

Draco had not seen Ginny in some time. He had not seen how very pregnant she looked now. If he were honest with himself, he would know that he had actually been trying to avoid her, not wanting to face her and face the fact that she might possibly be carrying someone else's baby.

Ever since she had sent him that very impersonal letter via owl post telling him that she was pregnant and thought he should know since he was bound to find out sooner or later, he had kept away from her. She had not even bothered to mention the identity of the baby's father. Nevertheless, as he looked at her, Draco felt something strange, the distinct certainty that she was carrying his baby. However, he really had no clue.

Ginny looked as beautiful as ever, at least in his estimation. True, she was wearing an old smock over a large blue t-shirt and leggings. Her normally loose curls had turned to ringlets due to the recent summer humidity that never quite faded for her due to the hot flashes she tended to get during the pregnancy. Despite the heat, Ginny's pale skin looked creamy and cool.

"What do you want?" Ginny snapped irritably, wanting to complete her shopping within her lunch hour so that she could get back to work on time.

_Were those circles under Draco's eyes_? She wondered, studying him. It had been some time since she had seen him, as he had been out of town on business for quite some time. Thus, he had not even been able to spend the past few weekends with Rafael.

Draco's face was flushed from the raw weather and there were leaf fragments in his pale hair. Ginny found herself resisting the urge to reach up and brush them out, running her fingers through his fine hair. It was the bloody hormones making her feel this way, she reasoned, nothing more.

"What do I _want_?" Draco repeated. He could not stand the tension anymore. He could not live like this – hiding from her, avoiding her, not even being able to see his own son, not knowing the truth.

"You know what I want, Gin? I want to know whose baby that is. Is it mine? Is it?" He bent down so that only she would hear what he had said.

"Okay," Ginny said, drawing herself in, steeling herself, "you want the truth? It's not yours. That's all you need to know," Ginny told him, flushed with colour. Lying was not in her nature, but it could spring out of necessity and circumstance, in times just like these.

Each nasty syllable of her words dropped into the road between them with a loud clatter. Draco looked at her with his clear gray eyes, and Ginny felt something absolutely bizarre in her fingers and toes, a sensation so threatening and strange that it made her want to turn and run away from him, even though she could not possibly have managed that.

Draco's face was pale and it was not easy to read his expression. He had clammed up, retreated into a cocoon of safety, hidden away behind his immaculately nonchalant mask.

"So can I see Rafael this weekend?" he asked, as if something between them had not changed forever, as if he did not feel that he had been robbed. He felt as if everything he had ever tried in life had gone wrong.

"You can come and pick him up on Saturday. And when can we get on with signing the divorce papers? Lynn is getting impatient." Ginny hoped that talking about things of grave matter would make the sour taste her lie left in her mouth go away.

"Soon. By next week," he answered, his mind elsewhere.

Ginny excused herself, blaming her long shopping list, and walked off. Even though she did not turn around to look, she knew Draco had not walked away. This was the way it had to be, she told herself. She would be removed from him forever. She would be distant as stars, unhurt and untouched, forever and ever. She did not look back, because if she did, she would have discovered how much she wanted him, for all the good it would ever do her.

* * *

Ginny remembered one Halloween, in her seventh year, when all she had wanted was to be with Draco. It had been no easy feat finding the right gift for someone who had everything, but Ginny had managed. 

She had decided on a silver compass she had discovered in the attic at The Burrow. It was an old fashioned piece, a simple token of appreciation for his for taking time off his Order training to spend the evening with her. Ginny had vowed to give it to him at the ball that night.

She was certain by then, that with Draco, things were different; this was real. That was why Ginny had been so nervous; this time it mattered.

She remembered, in painstaking detail, the black dress robes she had worn that night. They dipped low in the back, revealing not only the small of her back but all of it. She had even let her hair down, something she rarely did, letting her curls take a soft and glamorous shape.

"You look terrific," Luna had told her as she came down the stairs leading to the Great Hall. Ginny shrugged, too anxious to respond.

She remembered that while everyone else had been busy dancing, laughing, and eating; Ginny had been busy watching for Draco to enter through the Great doors.

As he stood there, in the crowded hall, Ginny could not have loved him more. He came to her and bent down so that he could whisper in her ear, "you look beautiful."

That night was one from her dreams. She wrapped her arms around Draco, content in knowing that he was the one. Ginny could not remember ever being happier than she was when dancing with him, and by midnight, she was ready to leave. They had planned to go down to the lake to be alone.

* * *

This Halloween could not be any more different. Ginny was sure she never could have imagined that such a Halloween would be in her future that dreamy night. Then again, Ginny had relinquished any control she had on fate by falling in love with Draco Malfoy all those years ago.

So here she was, holding onto Rafael's hand and guiding him down the street with the light from her wand. The trick-or-treaters were out in full force; wandering down the High and Main Street, dressed as ghosts, vampires, and werewolves.

It was as if children had taken over Hogsmeade village; they were everywhere, crossing streets and lawns, running through the darkness with lanterns, and bags filled with candy. Rafael, though, looked every bit the part of a dashing young prince.

In fact, the pair had been stopped by an elderly woman and her two grandchildren – she beamed at Rafael before turning to Ginny, "a Venus child," she said, more of a statement than a question.

Ginny nodded, not so much surprised at the old witch's accuracy, but by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. When Rafael was been a baby, Ginny had gotten such comments quite frequently.

The elderly witch must have mistaken Ginny's momentary surprise for confusion because she went on to explain, "such pleasant and well balanced features, oh, and that smile – definitely born in the month of the planet Venus!" Then, after an exchange of tricks, the groups parted ways.

"What's that mean, Mummy? That I'm a Venus child?" Rafael asked, after considering it a while for himself.

"It means," Ginny explained with a great deal of tenderness in her voice, "that the Goddess of Love, Venus, gave you to me and your Daddy." Ginny smiled down at her son, and found that he looked even more curious.

Rafael reached out and patted Ginny's large, round belly, "did she also give you this baby?"

She shook her head no, restraining her emotions before speaking - otherwise she would wind up standing in the middle of the street, crying her eyes out.

"We can't be sure, she began, "not until the baby is born." Rafael nodded, tightening his grip on his mother's hand as they grew nearer to their home.

"I'm glad it's a she baby," he added as they reached the door, looking up at his mother with such earnest gladness that she sat down on their front stoop and began to cry for good.

"I love you," she sobbed, shaking as Rafael dropped his treat bag and patted his mother's shoulder the way she did to him whenever he was upset.

"I know, mummy. I love you too," he said, smiling as his mother pulled him into a close embrace.

It was then they both felt it; like a wave cresting inside of her. Rafael backed away from his mother, staring incredulously at her stomach.

"She hit me," he said, bewildered. Ginny began to laugh, shaking her head, tears still running down her face. She was so taken aback that she could barely speak.

"No, sweetie," she laughed, "your sister is just kicking and moving around. She's showing you how much she likes you. Here…" Ginny smiled broadly as she took Rafael's small hand and placed it flat on her stomach. Soon after came a gentle and almost inquisitive series of tap, tap, taps. _You are here_, Ginny thought, _You are really here_.

Rafael's face broke into a beautiful smile. "She kicked. She liked me, Mum."

Ginny nodded, smiling through her tears.

"We should name her," she suggested, getting up to unlock the front door.

As Rafael stepped into the apartment with Ginny right behind him, he turned to face her, "can we name her Venus?"

Ginny laughed at her son's untainted and entirely contagious enthusiasm. "Maybe, honey, Maybe."

* * *

After Ginny tucked Rafael into bed and read a bedtime story to both him and the baby – the baby was supposedly especially sensitive to the mother's voice while in the womb – she made herself a cup of hot mocha and settled down in the living room. She made herself comfortable on the couch in front of the fireplace, tugging a ratty quilt over herself. 

Sipping her hot drink, Ginny did what was becoming a routine; she talked to the baby. She told her unborn daughter about her grandparents, about her older brother, about her father who was a good man, about life, and about love. _Here you are_, thought Ginny, cupping her hands around her belly. _Wow_, Ginny thought. _A daughter, for sure._

Ginny woke up some time later, blinking into the darkness, judging the length of her sleep by the state of the fire, it had burned down to mere embers. Ginny reasoned that she had fallen asleep on the couch, yet something had woken her up. It took a full minute for her to realise that someone was knocking on the door.

Ginny slowly hefted herself from the couch, hoping that Rafael would not be awoken.

A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed the ungodly hour; it was one o'clock. Racking her brain for a potential visitor, Ginny peered through the peephole. Snapping her head away from the door, Ginny blinked in surprise and hesitated before fully opening the door.

"Hey…" She stared up at Draco.

His red-rimmed grey eyes shone too brightly to be considered healthy as he stared down at her. His hair was a ruffled mess, his suit rumpled as if he had been wearing it for too long.

"Tell me it's late. Tell me I should go home." He waved his hands vaguely in the direction of the street, swaying slightly.

"It _is_ late. One in the morning, really," Ginny pointed out matter-of-factly even though she suspected he was drunk and longed only to hold onto him and guide him to the nearest settee.

"Can I come in?" he asked, suddenly feeling weak in his knees. A longing that made his bones ache flooded him as he observed the way Ginny's breasts swayed in her blouse.

Ginny stepped slightly aside, letting him brush past her before he entered. He reeked of Firewhiskey, confirming her suspicions. "Rafael's asleep, you know."

"I came to see you."

She looked up at him sharply before looking away. "I'll make us some coffee."

"No," Draco put his hand around her slender wrist, " sit with me…. Just sit with me for a while."

Ginny obligingly followed him to the couch and sat down beside him. He stretched one arm out and behind her.

"Crummy day, eh?" he ventured

She nodded.

"When do you think it'll stop being so painful?" he asked, breathing deeply.

Ginny shrugged, she was sleepy and confused. "Still waiting for that day…"

"I'm going to stop asking you to come back. It makes feel too pathetic," he mused, flashing Ginny a wry, weary smile.

"I just wish we had turned out differently…" Ginny murmured, hoping just this once she would not cry.

"Let's stop talking," Draco said quietly. She nodded.

He shifted slightly towards her, "Could you just… put your head against me the way you used to?"

Ginny did not even hesitate. She moved closer to him, resting her head against his hard chest, leaning into him, putting her hand flat on his white linen shirt. She breathed him in – the essence of Draco Malfoy. Through everything, she could smell the musky, grassy smell of his skin.

When she had first left Draco, Ginny had packed her favourite shirt of his and would occasionally wrap it around herself if only to have something of his around. Ginny never wore it outside though, wanting to keep his scent in it for as long as possible. She remembered one night, when she had missed him sorely, that she had buttoned the shirt over a pillow and hugged it to her as though she were still a schoolgirl.

Tears welled up in her eyes as he rested his chin gently on her head.

"Are you crying, Gin?"

She shook her head in denial as he kissed her forehead. Placing his index finger under her chin, he tilted her face upwards so that he could look into her eyes.

"You're crying," he stated.

He then bent his head to hers and kissed her, slowly, with a great amount of tenderness. He felt himself arrived, come home, safe to shore as he moved even closer towards her so that he was drawn up against the warmth of the soft curves beneath her blouse. The pleasure was so great, he groaned with gratitude.

It was no surprise then that she responded as deeply as she had on the evening he had first kissed her. She was sixteen then, and convinced she could never fall in love, not really, not the way she was supposed to, head over heels, crazy and rash, all or nothing. Even now, she laced strong fingers around the nape of his neck and sighed contentedly into his mouth.

As Draco's hand moved along her shoulders, spine and onto her belly, a slight kick from the baby jolted the both of them to their senses. They broke apart, staring at each other for an interminable moment.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she said just as he murmured, dazedly, "the baby moved."

Ginny stood up then, abruptly, quite swiftly for a woman of her size. "You should go, Draco." Though she said it firmly, she was inwardly experiencing an unrivalled state of emotional exhaustion.

Draco stood as well, nodding in agreement.

As she opened the door for him, he bent down to kiss her on the cheek, "Happy Anniversary, Gin," he murmured, before walking off and disapparating.

* * *

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	5. Part IIIII

**You Are The Only One**

**Summary** – DG, Post Hogwarts, a tad AU-ish. What happens when your marriage does not turn out the way you envisioned? Would you stay, knowing that life would be a bit worse? Or would you cut and leave? Most importantly does true love last a lifetime? Ginny and Draco struggle to find out the answers before it is too late.

**DISCLAIMER – Anything you recognise is not mine.**

* * *

**Part Five**

_True love lasts a lifetime – Emma Thompson in Love Actually_

* * *

A storm had been predicted, and a wind had begun to rise; strands of Ginny's red hair whipped across her face as she sat in the yard of The Burrow, her swollen feet in a tub of reassuringly warm water. On this murky November day, she was finally back at home, having been given official maternity leave from work for the next few months.

Things were so much easier now that she had relented to her mother's requests to move back into The Burrow. At least she got to spend more time resting, and with her son, as she no longer had to take care of all the cooking and cleaning. Ginny rested her hands on her belly, and the baby turned, swimming in her sleep, executing what felt like a back flip.

It was then that Molly came stumbling out of the house, walking briskly towards her daughter, not knowing how to say what she had to say.

"Ginny," her mother began, stopping abruptly.

"What is it, Mum?" Ginny asked, taking her feet out of the tub. She knew something was wrong. It was in the way her mother said her name, it was in her eyes, a wary flicker, and in the quick breath she took.

"What is it? Is it Rafael?" The thought itself made Ginny put her hand to her chest. Her son was sitting in their room, absorbed in a book, the last she saw him.

Molly shook her head, reached her hand out, and touched Ginny's shoulder. Ginny flinched. Her stomach had dropped into a bottomless pit and she had a tingly feeling in her toes, the feeling she always got before disaster struck.

"It's Draco, darling." Molly's voice was thin and high. "He's been attacked."

This could not be, thought Ginny, even though she understood that it could. She felt something wrong in her fingers and toes, it was a whole lot like the edge of panic. It was panic she was feeling, that much she was certain. It was creeping along her spine, spreading into her veins, moving toward her vital organs. The blood was fast draining from her face. She was seeing spots before her eyes and every spot was red, hot as cider.

She realised her mother was still talking, "You were listed as the next of kin, so they contacted us. According to the healer, Draco had been mugged and stabbed. He's in the intensive healing unit at St. Mungo's, and his condition is still critical."

Twilight was casting purple shadows in the yard. The evening had turned even more overcast, and the birds had stopped calling. It was the hour when the crickets first began to call out a warning; their song quickened by the humidity of the coming storm. A storm with near hurricane-force winds had been predicted for late tomorrow. Right now though, Ginny's life was the thing in danger of being blown off its foundation.

"I have to see him." Ginny voiced the only coherent thought running through her head.

At that moment, she seemed to be someone who would jump from the branches of the tallest tree, convinced all she needed for a safe landing were her outstretched arms and a silk shawl to billow out and catch the air as she fell.

"Maybe you should wait. Just until Daddy comes back, he can take you," Molly tried her sweetest voice, the one that could cajole sense into her children.

She was worried about Ginny, and most of all, the baby. Apparating was not safe for Ginny in her condition. "Besides, I've contacted Harry and he's probably at St. Mungo's already."

But Ginny had made her decision. She refused to listen; once she pulled out her wand from her pocket, short of restraining her physically, Molly could do nothing but stand and watch as Ginny disapparated. She stood there motionless for a long while, staring at the empty space where her daughter had stood, musing how little control she had over her babies – no matter how old her children got, they would always be her babies.

As she stood there, a fine drizzle began and that was what made Rafael come after her. His grandmother was standing out there all alone, getting wet and not noticing.

"Oh no, Grandma? Is something wrong?" he asked, getting soaked as well.

In his opinion, it was truly creepy out tonight; it made no sense to be standing here in the dark. Rafael shivered and considered the overcast sky.

"No, let's go back in." All Molly could do was pretend that nothing was wrong.

Holding onto her grandson's hand as if he were leading her back to safety and not the other way around, they made their way back to the house. The rain was coming down hard; and there was a curtain of it, grey as a blanket of tears. The earth felt spongy and squished under their feet as they walked briskly across the yard.

Both grandmother and grandson were drenched through and through by the time they stepped into the kitchen. Their hair was plastered to their heads and their clothes were sopping wet.

"I want my mother," Rafael said in a very small voice as he stared out the window above the kitchen sink at the sky, which was black enough to convince him that it was midnight.

"She's out running some errands. We'll be fine, darling," Molly told him, fixing their clothes with a drying charm and conjuring up some camomile tea to settle her nerves.

"No need to worry," she told him as she tucked him in and kissed him goodnight awhile later, "We're safe and sound tonight."

* * *

Her hair stuck up like feathers from the rain and her breathing was ragged by the time Ginny reached St. Mungo's from the apparition point some distance away. She did not care about any of that, or about the fact that she squeaked when she walked, or about the dark water that she dripped all over the hospital lobby.

When Ginny burst in through the doors of the emergency unit, Harry did not recognise her. That was the way love walked in, barely dressed, confused, panic stricken, overcome, not caring what anyone thought or what he or she believed.

"Merlin, you look terrible," Harry said, before throwing his arms around her. They hugged each other, and then Ginny backed away. "You're soaking wet."

"How is he?" Ginny managed, her face was tight.

That was all she really cared about – Draco. There was a lot to lose when you had something, when you were foolish enough to let yourself care. Well, Ginny had gone ahead and done it by falling in love all over again with Draco, and her fate, she realised, was now out of her hands.

Just then, a tall, dark haired familiar looking man emerged from the swinging doors of the waiting room.

"Ginny." He smiled broadly at her.

She blinked at him in disbelief.

"Blaise!" She cried out, as they embraced.

Blaise was the kindest person that Ginny had been blessed to have been acquainted with during her years as Mrs. Malfoy. He was Draco's best friend, right hand man, and had always had a soft spot for Ginny and her quirky sense of humour.

"Well," Ginny said when she was done crying. She wiped at her eyes with her hands. "Who would have thought I'd get so emotional?"

"It's been a long time since we last met," he told her.

She nodded, "How is Draco?" Her voice sounded fragile, a shattered, dependable thing.

"I just spoke to the Healer," Blaise glanced at Harry, addressing both him and Ginny, "Draco's still in surgery. The stab wounds were pretty deep – in the chest area and abdomen, so there's been a lot of blood loss. His condition is still considered critical for now, and they'll let us know once the surgery's over."

"Wh- where was he attacked?"

It was Harry who answered, quietly, "in Knockturn Alley."

"What!" The hairs on Ginny's arms were standing on end at the very mention of Knockturn Alley. "But he knows better than to go in there, after all the Howlers he gets from former Deatheaters, even after the War." Blaise shrugged, seemingly baffled.

"Have they got the attacker?"

"No, it's difficult considering how many dodgy characters there are in that place," Blaise reasoned.

The group decided to camp out in the waiting room where Blaise fell asleep sometime near dawn around when Harry left to get food. Ginny stayed awake all night long. No one would ever guess she had not had any sleep. No one would ever guess how hard she wished for something.

The surgery lasted eleven hours, and the whole time Ginny pictured Draco's face, his shining eyes, and his perfect lips. She remembered how stubborn Draco always was when he wanted something. She remembered how he once told her that one reason he loved her was because she could never imagine some of things he was made to do during his youth by his father and the Dark Lord, and when he was with her, neither could he. She thought about his kisses, and the way he touched her, and she was turned inside out all over again.

She sat helpless, hearing Draco's goofy laughter when she had told him that she was pregnant with Rafael. She heard him singing the sleepy song to Rafael on the morning of his birth. She saw him drawing a heart with a marker on her swollen stomach. She watched him play Quidditch at Hogwarts, she sitting with the Gryffindors. Draco was older than she and so glamorous, even the way he wore his Quidditch robes made the hair on her arms stand up.

The weight of the possibility of never _seeing_ or _feeling_ Draco again descended on Ginny like a cloak made of ashes. Every voice sounded like fingernails against a chalkboard, and she had absolutely no tolerance for even the smallest bit of false hope.

All night she avoided Harry and Blaise and sat by herself, because, what was the point? Everything was about to be lost, and she could not stop it; she might as well give up and call it a day. The only problem was she could not do that. She had considerations now; she had for better or for worse, Rafael, and now, this baby.

When Ginny saw the Healer approach, she shook Blaise awake and he blinked in the fluorescent light of the waiting room while the Healer told them the good news.

"The first thing you need to know is that Mr. Malfoy is out of immediate danger. The prospects for recovery, cautiously at least, are quite good..."

With a close call like that, it made perfect sense that Ginny began to shake like a leaf in a thunderstorm. All night long, she had been preparing for the worst, and when the Healer left them after promising Ginny that she could see Draco in a few minutes, she sat down in one of the plastic waiting room chairs, and she cried.

As Ginny understood it, the greatest portion of grief was the one you dished out for yourself, and now, she knew what she had been missing. Better late than never, that was the way she saw it. People made mistakes all the time, and sometimes it was more than worthwhile to forgive someone, especially if that person was the man you loved all your life. Even if he had hurt you before.

Pride was a funny thing – it could make what was truly worthless seem like a treasure. As soon as you let go of it, pride shrank to the size of a fly, but one that had no head and no tail, and no wings with which to lift itself off the ground.

Who was she to be so certain and so righteous that her way was the best? From the very start, Ginny had been lying to herself, telling herself that she could handle everything. She did not want to lie anymore. One more lie and she would truly be lost. One more, and she would never find her way back through the woods.

Ginny gulped the coffee Harry had brought her; she was dying of thirst. Her throat actually hurt from all the lies she had told everyone, specifically Draco. Lies of omission were still lies after all. She wanted to come clean; she wanted to tell all.

* * *

In the post-op room, Draco was breathing slowly, deeply adrift inside the half-sleep of the anaesthetic potion, which was only just beginning to wear off. He thought he was walking on the black stone pavement of Knockturn Alley, searching for something. He thought there was darkness in the air itself and it was choking him.

He thought it had all dissipated when a beautiful woman leaned down close and whispered, _I'll always be here_. It was the voice from his dreams, the person who knew him inside out, Ginevra. He smiled just knowing she was there.

A day started out in one direction and ended in ways no one could imagine, with blood lost, with true love gained, with a swirling mass of stars below the fluorescent charmed lights, with good fortune where it was least expected to be found.

Draco Malfoy knew exactly who he was for one lucid moment, and that was more than could be said for most people. Before he sank back into sleep, he said _Lucky_ aloud, as if that single word was his prayer and his protection, well worth repeating everyday of his life.

* * *

There was a vacuum hush in the room as Ginny sat with Draco's hand in hers for a long while, watching Draco sleeping in the dark with only the fluorescent charmed light at the back of the bed. She thought how wonderful it would be to climb up on the hospital sheets and lie beside him. And how impossible.

She pulled her chair as close to his head as she could and laid her face on the edge of his pillow to watch him breathing, to see the flutter of his eye beneath his eyelid when he dreamed. How could it be that you could love someone so much and keep it a secret from yourself as you awoke everyday away from your home?

It was so simple, as she watched him, as his regular breathing calmed her, that she did not even see it happening at first. She began to think of the rooms in their house, The Malfoy Manor, and the hours (that she had worked hard to forget) spent inside of them. Like fruit put up in jars and forgotten about, the sweetness seemed even more intense when she returned.

There on that shelf, were the dates, and the silliness of their early love, the braid that began to form of their dreams, the solid root of a burgeoning family; the first solid evidence of it all. Rafael. Ginny traced a new line on Draco's face. She liked the premature silvering of his temples.

Shortly after, she fell asleep after trying as hard as she could to keep her eyes open. To hold to everything all at once while she looked at that face, so that when he awoke she could say she loved him.

* * *

It was near Noon when Draco's eyes opened and he felt the warmth of Ginny's breath on his cheek even before he knew she was asleep. He wished that he could hold her, but he was too weak. Besides, he did not want to wake her.

The hospital was silent except for the sound of rain. He closed his eyes with the breath of Ginny reassuringly exhaling against his cheek, and listened to it, the silent patter on the slim metal windowsills. Then, he heard the sound of birds – small birds chirping, but he could not see them.

He felt Ginny's fingers, which had loosened their hold on his hand in sleep. That was the attachment; that was the way she held onto him. It was the only attachment Draco had to this world: the thread that had pulled him back. Then there was Rafael: the needle that pulled the thread.

Draco studied her with the leisure of someone who did not have to fear being caught. A few years on the rocks gave a person character. Although Ginny would never believe it, the lines on her face were the most beautiful parts of her. They revealed what she went through, what she survived, and who exactly she was, deep inside.

Her bulging stomach was very visible. He longed to place his hand flat on her belly and feel the baby. It did not matter anymore if it was his or not. He wanted her back anyway. She was here, and this time, despite it all, he was going to love her forever.

"You're awake," Ginny said, stirring. "I must have fallen asleep."

"It's wonderful to have you back," he said.

Ginny looked at him. Everything was stripped away in that moment.

"How do you do it?" She asked.

"I know that the things people in love do to each other, they remember. And if they stay together, it's not because they forget. It's because they forgive," he said.

"How about going away? Starting over again?" Ginny offered.

"Did it work?" He asked.

They were silent.

"Why don't you come lie down up here?" Draco asked. "I think there's more than enough space for you and that baby."

Ginny did not move.

"Harry and Blaise were wonderful. They were here all night," she said. "Harry got Luna to come and help me put all the flowers in water while you slept."

He looked around and made out their shapes. " Daffodils."

"Yes, our flower."

Ginny had to clamber onto the bed somewhat clumsily before they managed to stretch out beside each other so they could stare into each other's eyes.

"How's Rafael taking it all?"

"He doesn't know yet. He's still asleep. At The Burrow."

They were silent for a moment before Draco reached up and took a fiery strand of Ginny's hair, looping it around her ear. "I fell in love with you again while you were away," he said.

Ginny realised how fortunate she was to be where she was. Draco's love for her was not about looking back and loving something that would never change. It was about loving her for everything – for her brokenness and her feelings, for her being there right then in that moment. It was about his touching her hair with the side of his fingertip and knowing yet plumbing fearlessly the depths of her cinnamon eyes.

Ginny could not bring herself to say ' I love you' though – not yet, not now.

"I used to think there was a plan, a rough plan but a plan all the same," she admitted. "Now, I believe there are a thousand plans. Every breath, every decision, influences these plans, expands them, shortens them, twists them all around. It's always changing. Then, I wonder, in the end, where are we?"

It was silly to ask Draco, as though he knew, but he, in fact, did not hesitate. He took Ginny's and placed it on his chest, in the place he knew his heart to be. "There."

Ginny felt tears well up in her eyes at the feel of his heart beating steadily against his chest, and her hand.

"I always told Rafael that you had two hearts," she murmured. "Both so big and huge, and filled with love for me and him."

"I was at Knockturn Alley when I got attacked," he said then, his guilt wearing down on him like blocks of granite.

"I know."

"I was looking for a way to find out if that baby was mine." He placed one hand on the curve of her abdomen. "I was so desperate to know, and I decided Dark Arts were the only way. I almost would have been sucked in. If I hadn't been attacked, I might have gotten involved in dark magic just like my father. I was about to step into the shop, into the darkness." He wanted to curl into a ball and moan his self-hatred into the black.

Ginny shook her head once, holding him in her tear filled gaze. "I always told Rafael that Daddy is a king, not a prince. And kings know what must be done – even if it is hard – to make things right."

"Gin-"

"-He will do whatever he has to do for those he loves. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone. Great men try to make things right. That's what great love is. That's why Daddy's a great man."

Draco felt drunk with Ginny. He felt the desire for her take hold of him as if it had been building since birth.

"Does that mean you will stay?" he asked.

"Don't you want to know if the baby is yours?" she asked, momentarily puzzled.

"That baby's mine." Draco sounded so certain that he surprised himself. It was almost as if the answer should have been obvious from the start.

"Ask me how I know." He looked a tad cheeky, almost like himself. Ginny wanted to laugh.

"How'd you know?"

"'Paternal instincts." A tiny smile curled up Ginny's lips.

"She's yours alright."

"Finally, a daughter to spoil."

Draco reached over and traced the line of Ginny's nose, ending with his finger over her lips. As he did, her lips parted ever so slightly.

"You'll have to lean down," Draco said, "I'm still a sick man."

As they kissed, they kept their eyes open; Ginny was the one to cry first, the tears dropping down onto Draco's cheeks until he wept too.

* * *

**A/N NOTE**

**What will it take for Ginny to realize Draco's the one – she nearly losing him that's what**

**All my dg stories seem to make your'll cry..lol..**

**Now I just HAVE to check out "Nobody Does It Better" by Carly Simon**

**I ALWAYS push my luck..lol**

**That king bit is from the very tragic Mystic Rivers**

**This is my version of numbering..the caveman method where they draw lines for each chapter…lol**

**Anyway, give me MORE REVIEWS..am very greedy..was kidding about the hundred reviews babes and mates..lol**

**EILOGUE coming up!**


	6. Epilogue

**You Are The Only One**

**Summary** – DG, Post Hogwarts, a tad AU-ish. What happens when your marriage does not turn out the way you envisioned? Would you stay, knowing that life would be a bit worse? Or would you cut and leave? Most importantly does true love last a lifetime? Ginny and Draco struggle to find out the answers before it is too late.

**DISCLAIMER – Anything you recognise is not mine.**

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

_My love, my true mate,_

_Lost by the Fates,_

_Found by the moon._

_My love, my true mate,_

_Come to me_

_Now, don't delay._

_(Repeat three times)_

Zsuzsanna E. Budapest, "A Love Spell,"

The Goddess in the Bedroom

* * *

It was during her sixth year, his last year at Hogwarts, that it all began. Ever since that Christmas, Draco had been acting out of sorts. He stopped bullying the first years, rarely put down Gryffindors, and even ignored the Hogwarts trio, pretending that they did not exist. Or maybe he _really_ did stop noticing them.

And this all for one reason: he had been snagged by love. Draco Malfoy, the last person anyone expected to be a target. He, who had vowed never to let passion control him, had been hooked. Soon it became obvious with whom he was enraptured. Almost everyone saw Draco mooning around after the youngest Weasley, much to his or her disbelief.

Ginny herself did not even notice, disbelieving and completely indifferent to the rumours. Draco had sprouted to a towering six feet and four inches so Ginny never could see the expression on his face as he walked past her or happened to be in close proximity to her. If she had been taller, Ginny would have noticed that whenever Draco looked at her, his mouth was open as if there were words that wished to spill out on their own accord to convey what he was too frightened and too prideful to speak.

It continued this way until the first week of spring when Draco finally plucked up the courage to kiss her. After the Slytherin against Ravenclaw match, Draco had caught sight of Ginny walking along the corridor alone, without Potter, her loving friend Creevey, or that loony girl from Ravenclaw.

The adrenaline rush of winning the match, heightened by the thick spring fever in the air, caused Draco to act deliriously, he came up behind her and put his hands on her waist. He was already leaning against her and backing her against the stoned wall, before Ginny fully registered what was happening.

Ginny had difficulty pushing him away. He was close enough to her that she could smell the mixture of cloves and cinnamon that she imagined he topped his cereal with each morning, and a dark smell too, the smell of the human body coming at her where deep inside there were organs suspended by a chemistry separate from hers.

Before she knew it, she was letting him kiss her, and she was kissing back, and just as deeply. Then a sudden noise startled them, breaking them apart.

"You'd better go," she told him.

"Okay," Draco said dumbly, confused by how hot-and-cold she was, wanting more all the same. "We could go somewhere else."

"Tomorrow," Ginny vowed. "And the next night and the night after that."

So, with a rare yet handsome smile, he was gone.

And so was Ginny, she ran all the way back to the Gryffindor common room.

She was so dizzy when she stepped through the portrait hole that she had to sit on the chair in front of the fireplace with her head between her knees to stop herself from fainting. It was then that she truly understood the meaning of the word 'confused.'

Confused was exactly how Draco looked when he stood at the foot of the stairs, waiting to accompany Ginny to the Great Hall for breakfast each morning. He wore that confused expression as though he had been drawn to her without reason or forethought. He was confused when she kissed him, when she told him to go, when she said she never wanted to see him again, when she told him she liked him.

Draco was not the only one as Ginny was in obscurity herself. She had no idea what to do with the boy or with the fact that his kisses made her feel all sorts of wicked emotions she should not feel for such a boy. She had even written his name on a piece of paper and burned it on the last Friday of that month on the quarter moon, to rid herself of her desire for him. It did not help. Nothing did.

She was spending too much time with him as well. They had taken to meeting at the beech tree by the lake after supper, where they kissed for hours even though Ginny had a hundred more pressing things to do. They kissed until their lips were fevered and bruised, getting their hands into each others pants, wanting each other so much they could not think of anything else.

Worst of all, no one seemed to approve of him, least of all her brother, whose protests had to be muted due only to Ginny's continuous threats to hex him.

Then, one night a month later, Ginny became confident in her feelings for Draco. That was the night when, Harry came to talk to her after a long closed-door session with Professor Dumbledore.

The Headmaster had revealed to him that Draco had decided to join their side, to join the Order and fight against Voldemort. He was even willing to use his connections to give them an edge in The Second War. It was a bold step, a gesture, Ginny would only find out much later, motivated by love more than anything else.

After thanking Harry for sharing this information and promising him that she would not tell anyone else, not even Hermione or Ron, she slipped out of the common room. She walked through the dark corridors until she reached the Head Boy's dormitory, the room where Draco slept with all the curtains drawn.

He was so deeply asleep that he did not open his eyes until she lay down beside him. She could feel the heat of his body, the fever he had had for a year. Ginny took off her clothes then; she did not want anything between them. She felt cool, like a stone fished from the lake. Just seeing him made a chill go down her spine. It was then that she realized that Draco was taking his life in his hands each time he was with her.

Ginny was so close; it was like a wave had come over him. With her in bed next to him, he was drowning. That was what desire did to a person. That was what it did to both of them.

"Am I dreaming?" Draco asked. "Are you really here?"

Staring at her in disbelief, he noticed that Ginny had a delicate band of freckles across her nose and cheeks. He knew then that if he saw her every single day for the rest of his life, he would manage to be surprised and thrilled each time.

With her arms around him, Draco found the sugary scent that anyone who got close enough could not help but notice. He kissed her then, kissed her in a way that proved if she was ever thinking of getting out of this, she had better stop now.

After he made love to her that night, he had the urge to get down on his knees and ask her to marry him even though she had another year at Hogwarts to go.

Ever since then, they were inseparable. They were in their own world, a place so dreamy and complete they did not have to acknowledge that other human beings existed. Ginny thought during that time that it would be perfectly fine if Draco Malfoy was the only person in the world, she would be happy if all she saw was his face, nothing more.

Everyone in Hogwarts knew about Draco and Ginny; the news that they were officially a couple swept through the school like wild fire. Even Nearly Headless Nick congratulated Draco on his good fortune. They were the couple watched by professors and students alike and discussed in the library _and _the Three Broomsticks.

Fairies followed them whenever they were out on the grounds for a walk. House elves congregated every time they snuck into the kitchen for food.

Every time Ginny sat on a log by the lake with a muggle stopwatch to time Draco as he did his regular morning runs (he wanted to get himself into better physical condition as part of his preparation for The War,) the toads climbed out of the mud to sing their deep, bloodless song, and by the time Draco finished his run, he had to step over a mass of damp grey- green bodies in order help Ginny down.

A circle of pale yellow light seemed to hover around Draco and Ginny those days, the light rising and fanning out across the castle and above the rooftops. The air itself turned lemony when they were around. In those moments, it was easy to think about the possibilities that never before have crossed your mind. It was as if hope, scarce in these dark times, appeared out of nowhere, to settle beside you. It was not going anywhere; it would not desert you.

Even those who did not believe in hope anymore, those who did not dare believe in Dumbledore and The Order vanquishing the Dark side, began to. For here it was in the treetops, in the hallways. It was difficult not to believe in the inherent goodness of the world when one looked at Draco and Ginny with their arms looped around each other. (Except for Ron and a rather 'unwilling – to – trust – a – possible – Deatheater' Hermione, of course. It was only much later that they found out that Draco had chosen the Light side.)

During the War, things had been exceptionally bad. While Draco worried for Ginny's safety, she spent her nights pining for him. She missed him even more those days, she dreamt of him night after night.

At one time, she dreamt that she and Draco were making love, and when she woke, she missed him more than ever. All that morning she was weak in the knees, as though she had really just left her lover's bed. Worst yet was that everyone around her was distant and preoccupied with the War one way or another.

Once during those months, Ginny caught a fever that broke only when Draco appeared by her side begging her to marry him then and there. She refused. If anything, marriage would just make things worse for her, she knew she would not be able to concentrate on her work during the day as a healer.

Draco, on the other hand, rarely went back to the Malfoy Manor. He hated it now more than ever since his mother was gone. She had fled to Canada, desperate to escape the War that had taken both her husband and son away from her. He had reached an all time low – watching people dying all around him, their blood on his hands, never being able to see his love. He fought well, too well. He was so focused on his duties that no one could talk to him.

Something was so wrong with Draco that you could see it in his eyes. When he knelt down beside Harry in the trenches, his unhappiness interrupted Harry's concentration causing him, on more than one occasion, to misfire his curses. As they walked back from the battles together at the end of each day, Harry felt as though he were alone. He often tried to talk to Draco about Ginny, but he refused.

"I don't dare think of her," he told Harry, "I might never live to see her again and that's not the worst of it."

It was at the time when the War was most intense that Ginny began to have vivid nightmares. She saw Draco lying out in the battlefield, dead or hurt beyond belief. On the nights when she felt she might have nightmares, she tried the old trick her mother taught her when she was small; she washed her hair with lemon juice and took a book to bed, intent on reading just before she fell asleep.

Nevertheless, even when she rinsed her hair, the lemon juice always smelled bitter, and somehow her mind always wandered to Draco. Fortunately, dreams were only dreams. Soon hope and faith were restored.

The day the War ended, the day Voldemort was killed, the day a Deatheater's misfired curse killed Lucius, it was that night when Draco stood on the front porch of the Burrow, in the dim dusk light, having just buried his father. He seemed so fragile and helpless that Ginny could only put her arms around him and stay there with him, on the swing in the front porch.

That night when everyone else was in bed, they went up to Ginny's bedroom, took their clothes off under the covers and laughed the way they used to when it was that cold in Draco's room at Hogwarts. When they made love, they not only felt each other's bodies, but also the way they used to be. The sheer delight of knowing somebody so well was so staggering it made them weep when it was over and hold each other tightly until dawn.

Somehow, their experience through the War proved exactly how strong their love was and how much their relationship could withstand. So before the year was out, before the War decorations could be dealt, Ginny and Draco got married; the Malfoy Manor their home sweet home.

Children had never been a serious consideration until the following year when Ginny had offered to baby-sit Charlie's nine month old son, Scott, at his house last minute. Conveniently, Scott had been asleep when she arrived.

Still relative newlyweds and very madly in love with each other, Ginny had arranged for Draco to come over as soon as he tied up things at work. They were on the couch, kissing, when the baby woke up. There had been no warning, no slow escalation of louder and louder cries – suddenly the baby was screaming his head off, as if he had been stuck with the pain curse.

Ginny panicked. Draco did not. He simply told her to sit tight while he conjured a bottle of milk, leaving his wife there in tears. Ginny felt absolutely desperate – the pitch of the baby's cry had intensified. After a few minutes though, the crying stopped and Ginny took off her shoes so that she could creep unheard up the stairs.

When she got to the nursery, Ginny stood in the doorway and listened to the squeak of the rocking chair and the greedy sound of the baby's swallowing.

Ginny could not figure out how Draco had known to put the baby over his shoulder after he had had his bottle, how could he have known to gently rub Scott's back until he fell asleep. As she heard him hum a lullaby so sweet you knew you were not meant to overhear, she knew with a stunning certainty that she wanted to have babies with this man. There were no two ways about it.

When she found out she was pregnant not too much later, Ginny felt a surge of heat near her heart. Draco, as Ginny expected, was cautious but delighted. On the first day of her eighth month, Ginny woke up and decided that she could not go through with it after all. It was not being pregnant, she had gotten used to that – the insomnia, the heartburn, the pressure on her bladder. It was the idea of labour that terrified her. Her threshold for pain was not _that_ high.

When she told Draco, he had simply smiled at her, a smile of compassion. "You, my love are going to breeze through it," he said, "and do you know why?"

Ginny shook her head, baffled.

"Because I love you."

The best part was that, because of the look of unadulterated love in his eyes, she believed him.

* * *

Everything was different yet the same now. Love, genuine love, was a fragile thing. Love could perish when a husband worked seven days a week, when spouses did not make the effort to communicate regularly. The routine pressures of living could dull the keen edge of a loving relationship.

Love had to be maintained and protected if it was going to survive. It had to be watered and cultivated like a plant, or it would wither and die. That was what Draco and Ginny had learned. That was what changed between the both of them this time around. Everything was different yet so similar to the first few years they had shared.

Since Ginny and Rafael moved back into Malfoy Manor, the house itself seemed to change. It was as if it welcomed the return of those familiar sounds: laughter, the pit patter of a child's footsteps, a woman's voice, and those soft, soothing lovers' moans. By the following January, roses had begun to grow up along the porch railing, choking out ragweed for a change. The house itself even stayed surprisingly warm.

When Venus Malfoy was born ten days overdue at home, a horrid snowstorm brewing outside, the chandelier with the glass teardrops moved back and forth all on its own. Through out the night, it sounded as if a river were flowing right through the house; the noise was so beautiful and so real that the house elves came out of the kitchen to make certain the house was still standing and that a meadow had sprouted in its place.

At midnight, after a few hours of surprisingly easy labor, Venus was born. Immediately, everyone noticed how luminous she was, very much like a star.

Even Ginny, who thought it impossible to love another child as much as she loved Rafael, found herself falling in love with this angelic girl. Her skin was soft as apricots, and her eyes were the color of the October sky. She was their love child – a representation of their undying love for each other and the endless possibilities of their relationship.

Ginny looked up to meet Draco's weary yet excited eyes and smiled. When she looked at Draco, she remembered everything about him: the way the bed creaked when he sat down and pulled off his boots, the smell of blueberry pancakes (his favourite breakfast) on Sunday mornings. When she looked at him carefully, she could see the boy he used to be, right there beneath his skin, and she had the urge to kiss him. When he looked at her the way he was looking at her now, she knew he was seeing her for who she really was and that was more than she could ever ask for.

"I love you," she told him.

"Still?" he asked, smiling down at her and their baby.

"Always."

**_THE END_**

* * *

**A/N**

**I thought I stated it pretty clearly that he went to knockturn alley in a bid to use dark magic to find out if the child was his or not. I don't understand how you don't understand it…No one else seemed to have that complain..most of the other reviews were rather teary..lol..**

**Hoped you liked this epilogue, it's just to tie up all the few loose ends that's all. I might have a sequel but i have no idea what i would write about...unless you readers have any good ideas?**

**Pressing that review button and giving me some feedback would be absolutely _ACE_. Thanks.**


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